[■!ih 


CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(■Monographs) 


ICIMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Canadian  Instituta  for  Historical  Microraproductions  /  Inttitut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  hiatoriquas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  Images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 

0   Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 

□   Covers  damaged  / 
Couverture  endommag^e 

□   Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Couverture  restaur^e  et/ou  pellicul^e 

Cover  title  missing  /  Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps  /  Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 


n 

0 


["71   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


□ 
□ 


D 


D 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material  / 
Reli^  avep  d'autres  documents 

Only  edition  available  / 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion  along 
interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serrde  peut  causer  de 
I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsion  le  long  de  la  marge 
int^rieure. 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have  been 
omitted  from  filming  /  II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages 
blanches  ajoutdes  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  6\6  filmdes. 

Additional  comments  / 
Commentaires  suppldmentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
i\6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire qui  sont  peut-§tre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modification  dans  la  m^tho- 
de  normale  de  filmage  sont  indiquds  ci-dessous. 

I     I  Coloured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

I I  Pages  damaged  /  Pages  endommag6es 


D 


Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaurSes  et/ou  pellicul^es 


0   Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
Pages  ddcolor^es,  tachet^es  ou  piqu^es 

Pages  detached  /  Pages  d6tach6es 

L/    Showthrough  /  Transparence 

I     I  Quality  of  print  varies  / 


D 
D 


D 


Quality  indgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material  / 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata  slips, 
tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  totalement  ou 
partiellement  obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une 
pelure,  etc.,  ont  6\6  filmies  k  nouveau  de  iaqon  k 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 

Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant  ayant  des 
colorations  variables  ou  des  decolorations  sont 
film^es  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la  meilleure  image 
possible. 


4 

T 
^ 


I 


This  Hem  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  eheeiied  below  / 

C«  decumtnt  tat  film4  au  taux  da  reduction  indlqui  ci-dei(out. 


S 


10x 

14x 

IBx 

22x 

26x 

30x 

J 

12x 


16x 


20x 


24x 


28x 


32x 


The  copy  filmad  har«  Km  b««n  raproducad  thanks 
to  tha  ganarosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'axamplaira  filmi  fut  raproduit  grica  k  la 
giniroiit*  da: 

Bibliotheque  nationale  du  Canada 


Tha  imagaa  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
poaaibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  apacificationa. 


Las  Imagas  suivantas  ont  M  raproduitss  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattat*  da  l'axamplaira  film*,  tt  an 
conformity  avac  laa  conditions  du  contrst  da 
filmaga. 


Original  copiaa  in  printod  papar  covars  ara  filmad 
baginning  with  ttta  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copiaa  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
sion,  and  anding  on  tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  impraasion. 


Tha  laat  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  — ^  (maaning  "CON- 
TINUED ").  or  tha  symbol  Y  (maaning  "END"), 
whichavar  appliaa. 


i.aa  axamplairaa  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  en 
papiar  aat  imprimia  sont  filmis  an  commandant 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  la 
darniira  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprsinta 
d'impraaaion  ou  d'illuatration,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  salon  la  cas.  Toua  laa  autras  axemplairas 
originaux  sont  filmis  an  commandant  par  la 
pramiAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'impraaaion  ou  d'illuatration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darniira  paga  qui  comporta  una  telle 
amprainta. 

Un  daa  aymboiaa  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
darniira  image  da  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
caa:  la  symbols  «^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE".  le 
symbols  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 


Mapa.  piataa,  charta.  etc..  may  be  filmad  at 
different  reduction  ratioa.  Thoaa  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  expoaura  ara  filmad 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framaa  as 
required.  The  following  diagrama  illuatrata  tha 
method: 


Lea  cartaa.  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  dtre 
filmia  k  daa  taux  da  reduction  diffArants. 
Lorsqua  la  document  eat  trop  grand  pour  itra 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichi.  II  est  filmi  A  partir 
da  Tangle  supiriaur  gauche,  de  gauche  i  droite, 
et  da  haut  •n  baa,  an  pranant  le  nombre 
d'imagaa  nicaaaaire.  Laa  diagrammas  suivants 
illuatrant  la  mAthoda. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

e 

Miaocorv  resolution  test  chart 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


■APPLIED  IM^GE    \r 


165J   Eost   Main   Street 

Rochetler.   Ne»   York         U609       USA 

(716)    482  -  0300  -  Phone 

(716)    288-5989  -  Fo» 


Liif^i> 


trt 


f  /]  .^' 


-f-^ 


rV 


DRUMS  AFAR 


HEARTS  and  FACES 

The  Adventure  of  a  Soul 

"Stace  Geoi^  Moore,  in  'A  Modem 
Lover,'  sicetched  the  career  of  a  success- 
ful artlsi  we  remember  nothing  in 
fiction  80  vivacious  and  veracious  as 
Mr.  Gibbon's  story  of  a  Scotch  painter." 
SiUurday  Review  (London) 
Cloth,  $1.35  net. 


DRUMS  AFAR 

AN  INTERNATIONAL  ROMANCE 


BY 


J.  MURRAY  GIBBON 


AUTBOSOV 

"HEARTS  AND  FACES" 


^ 


NEW  YORK:  JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 
LONDON:  JOHN  LANE.  THE  BODLEY  HEAD 
TORONTO:  S.  B.  GUNDY    .-.    /.    .-.    MCMXVIII 


I    & 


i 


PS5f5 


COPYMOHT,    I918, 

By  JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 


Prmof 

J.  J.  Little  &  IvM  Compuiy 

New  Yofk,  U.  S.  A. 


TO 
C.  E.  BENJAMIN 


i 


Before  the  shadowy  porch 

Of  the  House  of  a  Thousand  Nights 

The  Sun  with  scarlet  torch 

From  his  pale  car  alights, 

And  on  that  dim  threshold 

A  flicker  of  flame  he  throws, 

A  flame  of  fine-spun  gold 

Shot  with  turquoise  and  rose. 

And  ere  this  Tyrian  glow 
Is  through  the  dark  wittJrawn 
The  winds  unquiet  blow 
Rumours  of  angry  dawn 
And  bloody  carnival 
Upon  the  fields  of  war, 
Where  dread  rlveittis  coil 
And  beat  of  drums  afar. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


CHAPTER  I 

OXFORD,  old-world  city  so  beloved  by  youth,  an- 
cient University  so  receptive  to  the  latest  learning, 
quiet  haunt  of  scholars  and  gay  arena  of  the  ath- 
lete !  Sweet  Seventeen  may  be  the  age  when  wom- 
anhood first  sips  the  wine  of  life,  but  Nineteen  sparkles 
brightest  to  the  young  Englishman  as  he  drives  through 
Carfax  to  your  College  gates  and  finds  his  name  upon  a 
College  staircase. 

Childhood  with  its  golden  curls  may  have  its  age  of  in- 
nocence, and  boyhood  with  its  shortened  hair  may  be  the 
epoch  of  adventure,  but  Nineteen  knows  the  proud  need 
of  a  razor,  Nineteen  smokes  with  discernment  and  no 
longer  out  of  brag.  Nineteen  calculates  his  income  not  by 
the  week  but  by  the  year.  Nineteen,  although  not  quite  of 
age,  can  without  contradiction  pass  for  a  man.  And,  having 
burst  the  chrysalis  of  school  into  the  more  splendid  exist- 
ence of  the  undergraduate.  Nineteen  flutters  through  a  de- 
licious air  to  sports  which  he  is  of  the  ripe  age  to  enjoy,  to 
friendships  which  open  up  undreamed  of  worlds,  to  studies 
which  he  may  indulge  in  if  only  he  has  a  mind,  unless  in- 
deed he  holds  a  scholarship,  and  then  he  drinks  great 
draughts  of  wisdom,  all  in  a  garden  walled  in,  it  is  true, 
against  too  easy  an  exit,  but  with  beautiful  old  walls  to 
which  like  clematis  great  memories  cling  and  fine  tradi- 
tions. 

Take  then  a  million  nerves  all  tingling  with  dreams  come 
true,  and  another  network  of  arteries  pulsing  with  uncon- 
querable hope,  built  into  a  complex  structure  of  bone  and 


10 


DRUMS  AFAR 


muscle  and  flesh  knit  together  by  good  health,  and  grown 
to  a  vigorous  well-poised  five-foot-ten  because  the  heart 
was  strong  and  the  lungs  were  clear  and  the  teeth  were 
sound  and  the  skin  fresh— so  fair  a  skin  you  only  find  in 
the  races  of  the  North-and  the  mind  alert,  untainted 
.  precocious  instincts,  and  add  to  these  blue  eyes  and  fair 
hair  and  good  humour,  and  you  have  a  picture  of  that 

hn^!lZ  T"""'"'  "^^Z  '"  ^^^  y^^'  °^  ^^'^  Lord  nineteen 
hundred  and  nine,  on  the  second  Friday  of  October,  when 
the  V  irginia  creeper  was  flickering  in  the  wind  like  a  red 
flame  over  the  porch  of  St.  Mary's,  overpaid  a  cabman 
thoroughly  familiar  with  such  excesses  on  his  arrival  a" 

grTdute  7t  ChHsf  Surch"  ^^^^  '''''  '^^  ^  ^  -^- 

twi"fiJf  '"°'"°*'f  pocket-book  given  him  by  his  father  with 
two  fifty  pound  notes  inside  to  give  it  tone,  he  fingered 
yet  a  third  most  precious  piece  of  paper,  folded  into  a 
sheet  on  the  front  of  which  was  printed,  except  for  a  few 
words  written  in  and  signed  by  the  Censor,  the  notice  of 
the  day  of  Meeting, 

p  "V  °"  7°?'"  ^'■"^^''"  said  this  notice,  "you  ask  at  the 

wuu    ^u^^'  ^^^'"   *^"  y°"   ^h^'-^   the   rooms  are 
wnich  have  been  assigned  to  you." 

First  of  all  he  had  driven  to  Tom  Quad,  then  been  re- 
directed to  this  other  Gate,  and  so  at  last  ^ith  the  aid  of 
The  Porter,  and  a  lesser  Porter,  and  a  still  lesser  Messen- 
ger to  whose  kindly  assistance  was  eventually  added  a 
Scout  and  a  Scout's  Boy,  he  reached  the  staircase  and  the 
outer  oak  door,  and  then  the  inner  door,  and  beyond  that  the 
very  rooms  of  his  long-anticipated  heaven. 

After  which,  being  left  to  himself,  our  hero-for  this 
be  It  known  once  and  for  all,  in  spite  of  his  faults,  foibles,' 
and  al  other  frailties  beginning  with  an  'V  or  indeed  any 
other  letter,  is  our  hero-sank  into  a  rather  treacherous  . 
arm-chair  before  the  open  fire  thoughtfully  lighted  by  the 
afore-mentioned  Scout's  Boy  on  the  instnicfions  of  the 
afore-mentioned  Scout  at  the  suggestion  of  the  afore-men- 
tioned  Messenger,  it  being  one  of  those  raw  grey  days 


DRUMS  AFAR 


II 


which  only  an  English  youth  of  nineteen  just  entering  Ox- 
ford could  ever  consider  his  first  day  in  heaven. 

Charles  Fitzmorris  was  the  third  child  and  only  son  of 
a  busy  stockbroker  whose  daughters  held  a  certain  sway  in 
Richmond  society  due  mainly  to  their  dressmaker  and  to 
their  mother's  well-directed  hospitality.  The  father  had 
been  content  to  send  his  boy  to  St.  Paul's,  a  school  within 
easy  reach  of  home.  As  wealth  and  knowledge  of  the 
world  increased,  he  wished  he  had  said  Harrow,  repenting 
at  the  rate  of  five  hundred  pounds  a  year  by  sending 
Charles  to  Christ  Church,  which,  though  not  an  Oxford 
man  himself,  he  had  heard  to  be  the  most  aristocratic  of 
the  Colleges.  As  a  matter  of  fact  "The  House"  is  also  the 
most  cosmopolitan,  owing  to  its  size  and  broad-minded 
tutors,  who  have  welcomed  new  blood  even  though  it 
may  not  pulse  thiough  aristocratic  culture  or  the  orthodox 
arteries  of  polite  learning. 

Most  Paulines  matriculate  at  Oxford  as  scholars,  but 
Charles  sauntered  in  a  commoner.  He  had  however  the 
Pauline  manner,  which  inclines  to  be  smart  and  a  trifle 
flippant.  For  that  reason  it  is  not  popular,  the  average 
undergraduate  shunning  the  unusual  lest  it  should  sound  bad 
form.    His  tutor  chilled  at  the  first  interview. 

"I  understand,"  he  said,  "you  intend  to  study  history." 

Charles,  nettled  by  the  other's  manner,  answered, 

"Yes,  and  also  make  it." 

"The  battle  of  Waterioo,"  snubbed  the  Don,  "was  not 
won  on  the  playing-fields  of  St.  Paul's." 

To  which  Charles  said  blandly, 

"Did  Bliicher  come  from  Eton?  " 

His  tutor  put  down  this  fresher  as  an  insolent  puppy, 
but  all  that  could  be  expected  from  a  London  day  school. 

Yet  the  repartee  evidently  strolled  round  the  Senior  Com- 
mon Room,  for  when  Charles  was  one  day  summoned  by 
the  Censor  for  cutting  Chapels,  that  worthy  said  as  he  was 
leaving, 

"By  the  way,  let  me  sho."  you  the  Blucher  Room— it 
will  interest  you— part  of  my  own  quarters,  where  the 


12 


DRUMS  AFAR 


In  any  case  at  had  been  indiscreet  to  wave  the  red  fla^  of 
Welhngton  before  a  Pauline   for  Sf   P.,,,1'.  i         ,  •  ^    * 

and  diplomacy,  the  one  man  of  h;f  f  t  ^  '"  '^''^^^Sy 

for  Louis  XIV    The  htt^"  f  w     •    ""^  "^^^  ^^^  ^  "^^^ch 

tonous.    i<rom  the  days  when  he  had  hepn  =  r^k     t> 


DRUMS  AFAR 


13 


Here  had  lived  the  man,  once  a  boy  at  his  own  school, 
whose  genius  in  the  fields  of  war  had  become  legendary 
even  in  France,  who  had  broken  the  power  of  the  Bour- 
bons, and  who  had  made  England,  almost  in  spite  of  her- 
self, the  dominant  power  in  Europe. 

For  sixty  pounds  the  furniture,  distinctly  the  worse  for 
wear,  of  his  predecessors  in  the  room  allotted  to  him  in 
Peckwater  Quadrangle  passed  into  Charles's  possession. 
The  chesterfield  needed  a  new  cover,  the  table  a  new 
cloth,  the  mantel  a  less  disreputable  frieze,  the  curtains 
a  decent  burial,  while  the  wall-paper  was  stained  with  rev- 
elry. Charles  went  shopping  with  Frank  Mainwaring,  a 
fellow  Pauline,  whose  history  scholarship  had  won  him 
rooms  in  the  Old  Library.  A  few  hours  with  an  obsequious 
shopman  resulted  in  a  wall-paper  growing  pink  rose-buds 
up  to  the  ceiling,  red  plush  curtains,  table-cloth,  chester- 
field and  mantel  also  of  red  plush,  a  leather  arm-chair,  a 
mahogany-framed  Rossetti's  Blessed  Damozel,  and  the  arms 
of  Christ  Church  emblazoned  on  that  form  of  shield  known 
as  Fresher's  Delight.  The^e,  with  his  groups  of  school 
teams  and  his  racks  of  portraits,  gave  a  personal  touch 
to  what  Charles  considered  a  highly  satisfactory  sitting- 
room. 

Frank  Mainwaring  spent  less,  but  gave  more  trouble. 

"Show  me  your  tables,"  he  would  say  superciliously. 

And  for  his  edification  were  rolled  out  tables  of  mahog- 
any, of  walnut  inlaid  with  marquetry,  of  cherrywood,  rose- 
wood, satinwood  or  fumed  oak,  the  shopkeeper  dilating 
on  the  respective  charms  of  Stuart,  Chippendale,  Shera- 
ton, Hepplewhite,  Louis  XVI,  Empire  and  Morris  styles. 
Then  after  an  hour  Frank  picked  out  an  ordinary  affair 
of  pine,  saying, 

"Richard  Burton  was  content  to  write  on  a  kitchen 
table.    That  is  good  enough  for  me." 

So  too  at  the  tobacconist's  after  fondling  straight- 
grained  pipes  and  meerschaums  he  would  disgust  the  shop- 
man by  choosing  a  fourpenny  corn-cob,  "the  kind  that  Mark 
Twain  smoked." 


H 


DRUMS  AFAR 


could  barely  move  betw?en  hf.    ^^'^'^^^^^^^^7  that  he 

book-cases.  Ws  bureaux  hfs  cha-^^^^^^^  "'"''''  '" 

table.    Frank  with  his  au.  Lf  K  ^"  ""^'"'^^  ^'"'ng- 

a  lithograph  brDaumier  ?r  ^?^"  P^Per  wall,  on  which 

ink  by  ChLlef  Keene  a  ;H^^^^^^  .''^T'  '  P^"  ^"^ 

woodcut  were  the  dernr  J;.      ^  ^°^^'"*^  ^"^  ^  Nicholson 

pretentiouTquarters        '''°"''  ^'"'  "  ^'^*'"^*'^«  ^-  to  less 

he^ad'alThiri^^^^^^^^  t^  °^  ^"-    ^^en 

he  had  signed  his  name  inl.t  -.u^^?'  '^"^^^^'  ^^e" 
had  absorbed  soL Ttherlv  ^d?  '"  f '  ^!?^'*^'''  ^^^"  ^e 
he  had  interchanged  v^:^  wIZ  J^"!  ??,  ^'°"''  ^^^" 
ceived  the  calls  of  friendlv  J-     ''^^^"'-^ellows  and   re- 

into  undergraduat  X  'anTeTi^t^and  h^'  ''^'-'' 
ated    nto  tubbing  on  th^ .-         etiquette  and   been   init - 

times  to  forget  hi  cap  and  r  ^^.'"  ^'  ^'^  '^^^"^^  ^be 
round  his  nfck  1  ke  a  scarf  hT'  ^7  V°  '''^'  '^^'  &°wn 
turn  up  in  Hall,  what  knd'o^Txcu  e'  to' mak '  t^'^ 
cut  his  tutor,  he  began  to  fed  thJ.w  ?^^^  "^^^^  be 

a  man  could  be  a  man  "^'^  "^^^  *^^  P'^^«  ^^ere 

The  compact  concentrated  life  of  Ovf,..^ 
relief  after  the  dailv  fro.v.  J  ^  Oxford  came  as  a 
and  Richmond  Moreover  to  n''  '^ri'"  Aaron's  Court 
in  a  rather  repress^  wl  T  ""^^  ''"^  ^''^^'"t^  "^^d 
housekeeping  froneselfR  t?  """'  '"  "^"^'^^'O"  i" 
been  an  unhfppy  rush  hrn,    ^  l'^  ^^'"i  "^^''^  *'"  "«^  bad 

fully  thougtet":i^'a„T'h':iT  :f:'^]  '^^"^^  ^  -- 

at  which  he  could  reJale  tc  °^'^^  entertainment, 

with  sophisticated  ment  PauHnl '''"'"''"^';  ""'  ^^^^^^ 
like  BaHiol      Kellv    an   A  "'''^  ^*  ""^e'*  colleges 

helped  hi.  hefetlhl^gTstir  s^ch'a:  ""^  T'-^^'^' 
an  American  cereal  after  whili?-  u       ^'  &''ape-fruit  and 

and  devilled  musSoirfo^iowedT^^  P'"^^"^ 

mulberry  jam.  '       ^'^  ^^  Devonshire  cream  with 

Silas,  the  scout,  who  brought  un  a  lur^^  .r,A 
fan,..y  o„  his  .OS,  useful  pe^isiSL^'A?;.  tt .rrrS 


DRUMS  AFAR 


IS 


left  over  from  the  meals  upon  his  staircase— disliked  such 
notions.  Oxford  town  was  not  yet  educated  up  to  the 
American  breakfast  food,  and  when,  for  instance,  Silas 
brought  home  toasted  cornflakes  his  derisive  offspring  asked 
if  the  swells  at  Christ  Church  were  using  up  their  old  straw 
hats. 

Silas  therefore  backed  the  claims  of  pigeon  pie,  knowing 
the  established  rule  of  Christ  Church  kitchen  that  if  you 
ordered  pie  for  four,  you  got  pie  for  six.  This  was  good 
for  the  kitchen,  good  for  the  scout,  and  gave  the  under- 
graduate an  air  of  hospitality.  But  Charles  had  inherited 
a  certain  business  instinct  and  was  twice  shy. 

Most  days  began  with  morning  Chapel  in  the  Cathedral. 
Then  followed  breakfast  with  a  senior  or  in  other  company 
till  ten,  when  it  was  time  for  a  lecture.  A  second  lecture 
with  an  houi  once  a  week  at  which  he  read  and  discussed 
an  essay  with  his  tutor  ended  Charles's  mild  intellectual 
effort  for  the  morning.  If  it  was  not  time  for  luncheon  he 
browsed  in  Blackwell's  bookshop  or  hovered  around  his  tail- 
or or  his  haberdasher.  The  schoolboy  has  but  little  thought 
of  dress,  but  the  Fresher  launches  out,  provided  the  purse 
allows,  into  post-impressionist  socks,  into  fancy  waistcoats, 
flame-red  silk  handkerchiefs  and  exotic  ties.  Women  are 
supposed  to  dress  to  kill  a  man,  rather  than  to  satisfy 
their  own  delight  in  fabrics.  So  with  the  Fresher,  whose 
gaudy  waistcoat  buttoned  with  mother-of-pearl  and  whose 
variegated  interlude  between  his  shoes  and  his  turned  up 
trousers  are  but  expressions  of  exuberance,  worn  not  to 
attract  attention  but  to  discharge  emotion. 

If  only  Charles  could  have  hoped  to  be  a  Blue  or  even 
wear  the  faded  rose  and  bright  brass  buttons  of  Leander, 
he  might  have  shunned  this  dandyism.  But  to  be  a  Blue 
meant  to  be  a  finer  athlete  than  he  knew  to  be  within 
his  powers.  He  could  do  no  more  than  worship  these  half- 
deities  with  a  heart  beating  behind  a  blaze  of  colour. 

Yet  he  had  his  exercise.  Enlisted  for  the  river,  Charles 
came  back  from  strenuous  afternoons  of  tubbing  with  a 
healthy  glow  and  also,  it  must  be  confessed,  in  spite  of 


i6 


DRUMS  AFAR 


cake  and  toasted  buns  ^  unlimited  appetite  for 

he^^KtnLu:  It'  ^^'^  ^^-*  ^^-  a  Pipe 
jesting  an  air  of  Experience  ^"^  '"^  '"'"^^'^P^^  brand  ^L^g-' 

after  ;Uh  th'^c'R' or r''"^^'"  '^'  --  time  for  Hall 
and  an  thegossi^  Sa^Ts^^.  "^  r^^^^^^^^^^^     ^^^ 
vaned     There  were  clubs,  and^nJe'r^rk^aflersHh! 

ocS^ie'i^rr^^^^^^^ 

dutifully  called  on  him.  had  Wm  fo'h  °w  ''"'°''^'  ^^^^ 
receded  into  their  exclusiVe  sphere  On  ^1^"'*'  ^"^  t^^" 
V.  Gleyn,  a  second  year's  Rhodes  Ll  ?^  ^"i^^^'*  ^^^^n 
larly  known  as  Kaiser  BUl's  Best^'^^^^^^  ^^'•''".  Popu- 

but  he  also  seemed  to  consider  rh!?""^'  ^'f°  ^'^  ^^'  duty 
h'm  Keiiy,  the  Americ^   OppSe  A'"?^".  ^^'    Facing 
on  the  second  floor  was  Harerov.  !  S^''^'>  °^"  ^^o^s 
w;th  thoughts  mostly    or  the  Ch^rrh   ''S'"'*^''  ''^^^^^' 
Staynes-Mnnners   a  CartLli!  V^""^^^'  ^hile  above  were 
Mackenzie.  full-bCn  ma  ^f^' W^^  T.  !>'l"ards.  and 
holding  the  annual  Exhibition  off  ere?  u'^  University,  now 
spective  of  age  to  such  as  nfh-     •        ^^  competition  irre- 
expensive  English  degree     ""^''^  '°"^^  "«*  afford  this 

Chanrbern^^itgrh^^^^^^^^  Kelly  that 

rooms  a  cornice  of  oak  ran  rSr  ^V!''^'^'"?-    In  Kelly's 
of  the  door,  above  whrcMhe  wril    '  ^'"'"?-'-°''n^  the  height 
white  identical  with  the  ce^.^^  BeTn^.S"'"'^"^  '"  ^  ^'^  A 
were  divided  by  broad  strips  ff  ^wZ     "  '°'r'  '^'  ^^"^ 
fed  with  a  light  brow„^}apaneIe^r^  ^"'^  '"^°  P^"els 
Japanese  stencils  mounted  on    r!'.  ^'P^P^''     ^^''^ate 
framed  in  black  hung  in  two  nJrr'  "^Wers  and 
hat  of  eather  stamped  wi7h  a  rold  H      '"°'^'''  ^  ^^'""'•ai 
a  circular  dish  of  beatercopnef   rt    ^""'  '"^  '"  ^"^ther 
-P'e  .-n  design,  matching  S ^kbltdTilr?  r^te 


DRUMS  AFAR 


17 


window-frames.  The  curtains  were  of  tussore  silk.  The 
table  and  the  chairs  were  of  oak  to  match  the  walls,  the 
only  note  of  pronounced  colour  being  in  the  cushions  richly 
embroidered  in  red,  black  and  gold. 

One  solitary  vase  adorned  the  mantelpiece,  but  above 
hung  the  head  of  a  Rocky  Mountain  Sheep  with  curling 
horns.  Liberty  arm-chairs  welcomed  friends  around  the 
fire. 

Although  Kelly's  dress  was  immaculate  and  his  wealth 
undeniable,  his  vivid  Middle  Western  dialect  sounded 
strange  in  that  drawling  Oxford  air,  Silas  was  never  recon- 
ciled to  such  language  even  by  his  lavish  tips. 

"  'E  do  fling  such  h'epitaphs  at  me,"  Silas  would  say, 
shaking  his  head. 

Silas  had  little  sympathy  with  the  democratic  wave  which 
was  bringing  so  many  nobodies  to  Oxford.  He  loved  to 
tell  of  the  titled  undergraduates  on  whom  he  had  waited 
and — it  must  be  suspected — whose  cigars  he  had  smoked. 
Of  01  rticularly  who  had  on  a  certain  Fifth  of  November 
roastea  n  Peckwater  Quadrangle  certain  statutes  from  the 
Library,  he  was  hysterically  proud. 

"  'E  was  a  demon,  sir,  'e  was — but  e  .  a  thorough  gen- 
tleman." 

Broad  cheeked  and  rather  flat  in  the  face,  Kelly  betrayp- 
his  Irish  father  in  more  than  his  name.  But  he  was  thorough 
ly  United  States.  His  teeth  glistened  gold,  his  feet  were  natty 
with  patent  leather,  his  light  brown  hair  was  parted  in  the 
middle.  What  stamped  him  most  of  all  American  was  his 
high-strung  manner  and  vigorous  speec'*,  so  diflFerent  from 
the  suave  "good  form"  of  the  English  undergraduate. 

Although  jarred  at  first  by  Kelly  s  transatlanticism, 
Charles  got  to  like  him  so  well  that  they  arranged  to  dine 
together  in  Hall. 

That  spacious  banquet-chamber  built  by  the  ambitious 
high-priest  Wolsey  for  the  great  College  which  should  be 
his  monument  roused  the  admiring  sarcasm  of  the  Ameri- 
can. 

"U  I  were  boss,"  he  said,  "I'd  have  them  give  a  fellow 


i8 


DRUMS  AFAR 


somethrng  hke  a  dinner  in  a  hall  of  this  kind,  not  a  tl 
cent  meal  for  fifty  cents.    I'd  get  a  bunch  of  those  f 
guys  m  the  white  caps  and  aprons  same  as  you  see  at  «=! 
son  s  m  the  Strand,  and  set  them  up  against  a  table  lo^ 
with  venison  pasty  and  barons  of  beef,  sheep  roasted  v,i 
sucking  pig,  loin  of  veal,  peacock  pie,  turkey,  goose 
good  fat  capon,  then  another  of  fish  with  lamprey  pi, 
dish  of  lobster,  salmon  and  halibut,  and  then  a  third  t; 
with  plum  pudding,  iced  cakes,  tarts,  desserts,  candies 
fruits,  with  butlers  handing  out  possets  of  sack,  mugs  of 
and  flagons  of  wine.    Why,  old  Henry  the  Eighth  look 
down  on  us  from  that  picture  frame  over  the  head-tc 
must  mistake  this  for  a  cafeteria." 

"Henry  the  Eighth  isn't  our  only  portrait  here"  s 
Charles.    "There's  William  Penn.  your  Quaker  hero  in 
'"If  "^/^"^-P^'-haps  we're  living  -  to  his  lights  no. 
God  bless  the  Founder  of  Pennsyl^    nia,"  answered  K 

n  *  u  "^f  I  '^^'^'  ^^"°^-  I*  w^s  his  Quakers  a 
Dutchmen  thac  brought  us  scrapples  and  Philadelphia  sai 
age.    Give  me  a  Ounkard  girl  for  a  cook,  and  just  as  si 

^*  ^.u^^^  ^  r'^y  ^'"  ^'^  ^'*  ^  S°od  digestion.  Ever  h< 
of  the  Dunkaids?  They're  a  religious  sect  of  farmers 
some  farmers  I  tell  you-in  Pennsylvania.  The  men  a 
clean-shaven  except  for  a  bunch  of  spinach  under  the  chin 
they  re  the  kind  that  won't  give  you  anything  unless  i 
absolutely  right.  When  William  Penn  said  a  long  gra 
before  meat,  it  was  coming  to  him.  He  knew  he  was  di 
for  a  good  meal  whenever  he  ate  at  home.  I  guess  I 
see  the  head  cook  here,  to-morrow  morning,  and  have 
httle  heart  to  heart  talk.    He  needs  it." 

Curious  to  know  what  happened,  Charles  asked  for  pa 
ticulars  next  day.  ^ 

"Well,  I  saw  His  Nibs,"  said  Kelly.  "He  gave  me  tl 
stony  glare  and  after  a  while  threw  several  spasms,  bt 
at  the  end  he  promised  to  give  it  the  up  and  down  and  thin 
It  over.  For  the  love  of  Pete,  I  said,  try  to  live  uo  t 
your  kitchen.    Before  I  left  I  handed  him  the  Boston  Coo 


DRUMS  AFAR 


19 


lot  a  thirty 
hose  fussy 
;e  at  Simp- 
ible  loaded 
sted  whole, 
goose  and 
)rey  pie,  a 
third  table 
indies  and 
mgs  of  ale 
th  looking 
head-table 

ere,"  said 
ero  in  his 
:hts  now." 
^ered  K'^1- 
ikers  and 
)hia  saus- 
5t  as  sure 
iver  hear 
armers — 

men  are 
he  chin — 
nless  it's 
ng  grace 

was  due 
ruess  I'll 
I  have  a 

for  par- 

!  me  the 
sms,  but 
nd  think 
e  up  to 
on  Cook 


Book,  and  he  touched  me  for  five  bucks,  or  one  golden  sov- 
ereign." 

Charles  soon  found  that  Kelly  knew  what  he  was  talking 

of  when  he  talked  of  cooking.     Much  of  his  time  seemed 

to  have  been  spent  in  collecting  recipes  for  the  dishes  that 

had  pleased  his  palate.    These  he  somehow  persuaded  the 

House  kitchen  to  serve  up  at  the  luncheons  which  he  gave 

to  his  select  friends,  mostly  Americans  like  himself,  as  the 

English  had  the  river  or  the  football  field  to  consider,  and 

dared  not  risk  more  than  bread  and  cheese.    One  day  he 

would  have  an  Italian  l»(nch,  with  onion  soup  served  in 

yellow  bowls,  spaghetti,  gnocchi,  cauliflower  fritters  and  a 

sweet  of  frangipane.    Another  day  he  would  start  with  lentil 

broth  or  cream  of  barley  soup  with  asparagus  tips,  mackerel 

baked  in  cream  followed  by  sweetbread  salad  and  ending 

with  apricot  custard — as  he  said  to  remind  him  of  Vienna. 

On  Fridays  he  had  fish  as  cooked  in  Normandy,  but  only 

on  Sunday  would  he  allow  himself  English  food,  saying 

he  did  this  for  a  penance  and  being  himself  most  penitent 

over  large  helpings  of  cold  roast  beef  and  Cheddar  cheese. 

When  Charles  accused  him  of  being  a  glutton  he  only 

laughed. 

"I'm  the  easiest  fellow  in  the  world,"  he  said,  "when  it 
comes  to  eating,  provided  I  get  what  I  want." 

Kelly's  pantry  was  like  a  China  shop,  so  numerous  were 
the  sets  of  plates  and  dishes,  each  of  a  distinctive  colour. 
One  day  he  would  use  cardinal  red,  another  day  a  pale 
emerald  green,  another  a  Chinese  blue.  He  drove  poor  Silas 
half  distracted,  as  he  used  not  a  table-cloth  but  doilies  to 
each  dish,  while  the  silver  and  the  glasses  and  the  plates 
had  to  be  arranged  on  a  mathematical  proportion  for  which 
he  drew  up  a  diagram  like  an  architect's  ground  plan.  The 
glass  of  water  must  be  exactly  at  the  point  of  the  knife,  the 
bread  and  butter  plat(  nust  be  to  the  upper  left  of  the  serv- 
ice plate,  with  butter  knife  across  the  upper  right  hand 
side  and  blade  turned  toward  the  centre.  There  must  also 
be  for  each  guest  a  tiny  saucer  with  what  Kelly  called  an 
"Individual  nut." 


J* 


20 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Before  very  long  Charles  realized  that  Oxford  is  a  Uni- 
versity of  many  atmospheres,  separated  by  walls  less  tanri- 
ble  but  more  impenetrable  than  the  old  city  ramparts.    Be- 
tween the  men  on  the  same  staircase  there  was  a  freemasonry 
which  permitted  them  to  borrow  each  other's  cups  and 
saucers,  even  their  silver  on  emergencies ;  and  men  of  the 
same  college,  however  separated  they  might  be  by  wealth  or 
tastes  or  seniority,  breathed  a  common  air  which  gave  them 
towards  each  other  a  certain  fellow  feeling.     But  in  a 
strange  quadrangle,  even  if  one  visited  by  invitation,  a  cold 
grey  pall  chilled  any  interchange  of  thought  between  men 
whose  tastes  were  otherwise  in  common,  making  the  visitor 
feel  on  sufferance,  and  driving  the  more  sensitive  back  to 
their  own  friends  in  their  own  college.    Just  as  in  a  night- 
mare invisible  hands  hold  the  eager  heart  from  the  object  it 
pursues,  so  this  old-world  Oxford  seemed  to  be  haunted  by 
unseen  forces,  ghosts  of  forgotten  prejudices  and  immemo- 
rial feuds,  herding  the  young  generations  mysteriously  into 
enclosures  from  which  they  might  not  stray.    Only  in  out- 
side clubs,  where  men  may  meet  on  neutral  ground  in  newer 
buildings  not  permeated  by  this  imperceptible,  pervasive 
spirit  of  exclusiveness,  does  this  harass  of  veiled  aloofness 
disappear. 

Christ  Church,  which  as  the  cedes  Christi  or  House  of 
Christ  scorns  the  appellation  "College,"  is  nevertheless  itself 
more  like  a  city.  So  many  types,  so  many  ranks,  so  many 
interests  are  gathered  in  its  five  quadrangles  that  no  wearer 
of  Its  colours  need  go  outside  to  find  his  friends.  It  is  a 
University  within  a  University,  and  there  are  few  who 
would  not  rather  say  they  were  at  the  House  than  that 
they  were  at  Oxford. 

U  there  is  any  breach  within  its  walls,  it  is  through  the 
link  of  school.  Paulines,  like  the  rest,  forgather,  indeed 
possibly  more  than  others,  for  that  school  wins  so  many 
scholarships  that  it  breeds  a  race  of  prigs  who  rather  fancy 
themselves  a  r.nce  apart,  destined  by  a  thoughtful  deity  for 
the  Ireland  and  other  such  University  prizes. 
Charles  who  had  no  need  to  work  save  when  he  wanted, 


DRUMS  AFAR 


21 


was  not  a  Pauline  bom :  he  had  merely  had  St.  Paul's  thrust 
upon  him  by  a  careless  father.  His  school- fellows  now  at 
ether  Colleges  put  up  with  him  because  he  was  good-natured 
and  imagined  them  nearly  as  brilliant  as  they  thought  them- 
selves. He  annoyed  the  scholars  by  saying  he  preferred 
G.  K.  Chesterton  to  Homer,  and  yet  they  forgave  him,  for 
after  all  Chesterton  had  been  a  Pauline. 

The  privilege  of  being  a  Pauline  was  never  realized  so 
keenly  as  on  that  evening  of  Charles's  very  first  term,  when 
the  debating  hall  at  the  Union  was  packed  as  it  was  never 
packed  before  by  a  crowd  eager  to  hear  Chesterton  himself 
meander  round  the  subject  of  the  House  of  Lords.  That 
Oxford  should  have  paid  this  tribute  to  one  who  was  not 
an  Oxford  man  was  typical  of  the  broad  spirit  which  so 
often  disarms  its  critics.  Strangely  enough  no  one  better 
than  Chesterton  expressed  the  attitude  towards  which  the 
undergraduate  of  that  time  aspired — an  attitude  of  para- 
dox concealing  faith,  expounding  the  Age  of  Innocence  in 
the  epigram  of  the  intellectual  exquisite. 

Charles's  own  particular  school  chum  had  been  swallowed 
up  in  Cambridge,  but  Frank  Mainwaring  had  always  been 
friendly,  and  now  that  they  were  of  the  same  year  at  the 
same  House,  went  to  the  same  lectures,  had  the  same  tutor, 
and  were  tubbed  together,  this  friendliness  increased. 

Although  he  had  the  protruding  teeth  and  die-away  chin 
which  Continental  artists  delight  to  picture  as  typical  of  the 
effete  Englishman,  Frank  had  a  fair  physique  and  consider- 
able force  of  character.  At  the  competition  for  his  scholar- 
ship, he  had  impressed  his  examiners  by  answering  only 
one  of  the  fifteen  questions  they  had  put  down  for  the  gen- 
eral paper,  treating  it  with  a  thoroughness  which  left  no 
doubt  of  his  wide  reading.  Like  Charles  he  had  played  in 
the  School  Fifteen,  his  speed  and  pluck  as  a  three-quarter 
being  beyond  reproach.  He  had  a  truly  Pauline  skill  with 
the  gloves  and  was  an  admirable  ■swimmer.  Lack  of  pocket- 
money  had  been  his  greatest  handicap  to  friendship  At 
Oxford,  however,  after  a  preliminary  spell  of  thrift,  he  went 
more  boldly  into  debt. 


J. 


22 


DRUMS  AFAR 


deSS^ntrs  ptg:^  fa? Ji°  "^^  "^^^ ^"'  «"<^-^  '"tens, 
of  view.  On  urgfnf  Keuf  ?f  '"^  ^''  ^^^  ^'""'^  PO'" 
offspring  of  Chicf^o^a^stLd  ^R-""  '"  ?^  ^^*^'  *^^= 
in  the  world  next  to  Sn^  '  r  .  "^  ''  *^*  ^"^^*  ^Po^' 
more  than  one  out  of  eS?,'  if  T^  ""^  ^  ^^™«  ^^^re 
Vour  perfect  oarsL^an  ^ ndst^ti;:  ^  tST^' 
I  d  rather  see  than  be  one."  ^  ^  ®  ^°^- 


CHAPTER  II 

RETURNING  rather  early  from  the  river,  Charies 
one  afternoon  found  Kelly's  door  ajar  and  heard 
the  sound  of  scuffling  on  his  own  landing.  Then 
the  voice  of  the  American  rang  out  sharp  and 

I1aS31  I 

"Now,  boys,  that'll  do." 

Hurrying  up  to  see  what  was  happening,  he  found  Har- 
grove s  oak  sported  and  Kelly  with  his  back  to  it  sur- 
rounded by  four  others,  men  whom  Charies  recognized  as 
of  their  own  year,  hunting  men  of  the  "coshy"  type  They 
fell  back  as  Charies  appeared  so  that  he  could  stand  beside 
the  American. 

"What's  the  row  about?"  said  Charies,  ready  for  a  fight. 

Why  do  you  spoil  the  fun?"  said  one  of  the  four,  a 

fat  red-haired  dandy.     "We're  not  interfering  with  yiu. 

It  s  this  rotten  Hargrove  smug.    He's  much  too  'pi,'  so  we 

are  screwing  him  up." 

'Tm  dead  nuts  on  pie  myself,"  said  Kelly.    "What's  the 
matter  with  pie  ?" 

"•Pr°!i,*^i^^'"'^-°^  P'^;,y°"  ''"y  8f°^t'"  said  the  other. 
Pi    short  for  pious.    The  fellow  holds  prayer-meetings 
in  his  rooms,— regular  confessional.    You  ask  Silas  " 

You  leave  Silas  to  us."  said  Kelly  roughly.  "This  is  our 
staircase  and  not  yours.  We'll  hold  all  the  god-damned 
prayer-meetings  and  confessionals  we  choose.     Now  you 

;n-ii'K?"°i"''"^""'  .''^"'''  "P  a"d  ««t  0"t  of  this.  I  hate  to 
spill  blood  upon  the  floor,  but  just  smell  this  automatic  and 
tZj7  ^  ^°"nt  ten,  or,  by  God,  I'll  give  Silas  some- 
thing to  wipe  up  I    One— two— three— four- " 

He  did  not  have  to  count  any  further,  for  when  they  sa'v 
the  weapon  pointed  as  if  to  fire  the  four  suddenly  blanched 
ducked  and  plunged  downstairs  so  quickly  that  before 


24 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Charles  and  Kelly  had  time  to  look  each  other  in  the  face 
fugitive  steps  were  heard  scattering  across  the  quadrangle. 

Ever  play  poker?"  said  Kelly  as  he  turned  round  the 
barrel  of  his  imitation  revolver  and  drew  from  it  a  cigarette 

If  these  boys  haul  me  up  before  the  Censor,  I'll  have  vet 
another  laugh  on  them.  Here,  old  man,  fetch  a  screw-driver 
so  that  we  can  release  the  Papal  Legate." 

"Here's  one  on  the  floor,"  said  Charles.     "They  must 
have  dropped  it." 

Half  a  dozen  screws  had  already  been  driven  into  the 
oak  before  Kelly  had  intervened,  but  the„e  were  quickly 
extracted.    Opening  the  inside  door  they  found  Hargrove 
a  smile  on  his  face  and  a  jug  in  either  hand 

"For  the  love  of  Pete,"  exclaimed  Kelly,  "what  kind  of 
a  prayer-meeting  is  this?" 
Hargrov*^  chuckled  as  he  explained, 
"I  had  ui.'  jugs  of  water  ready  in  case  they  threw  in 
fireworks  through  the  letter-slit,  and  when  I  heard  them 
rush  downstairs,  I  ran  to  the  window  and  caught  them 
just  in  time ;  at  least  two  of  them— the  fat  one  and  Brown- 
ing—soaked to  the  skin,  I  imagine." 

"Bully  for  you,  St.  John  the  Baptist,"  said  Kellv  "That 
was  a  hell  of  a  near  shave,  but  they'll  leave  this' staircase 
alone  now,  or  I  miss  my  ^ess.  Fitz,  put  on  your  coat  of 
many  colours  and  we'll  all  celebrate  with  tea  in  my  rooms  " 
Why  not  have  it  here?"  said  Hargrove.  "Unless  you 
are  afraid."  ^ 

"Afraid?"  Kelly  roared  with  laughter.    "That's  a  good 
one.    Sure,  we'll  be  delighted.    Won't  we  Fitz  >" 

"Just  in  a  jiffy,"  said  Charles. 

Hargrove's  rooms  were  characteristic.  He  was  an  ardent 
brass-rubber,  belonging  to  that  happy  band  which  on  bended 
knee  secures  impressions  from  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  cen- 
tury graven  memorials  in  which  the  floors  of  English  par- 
ish churches  are  so  rich.  The  beautiful  lettering  and  fine 
drawing  translated  thus  into  black  and  white  become  fine 
panels  of  surprising  decorative  value,  so  that  Hargrove  had 
an  array  of  supplicating  knights  in  armour  on  his  walls  as 


DRUMS  AFAR 


25 


background  to  tall  brass  candlesticks  and  dark  oak  Tudor 
furniture. 

When  Silas  appeared,  Kelly  gave  the  old  man  a  dressing 
down  which  he  was  not  likely  to  forget,  warning  him  that 
if  any  more  such  tales  were  spread,  he  would  put  arsenic  in 
all  the  untouched  food  which  Silas  claimed  as  his  iniquitous 
perquisite,  and  gunpowder  in  the  cigars  which  Silas  stole. 

Hargrove  seemed  rather  to  enjoy  the  lurid  language  inter- 
spersed in  these  admonitions.  His  eyes  deep  sunk  under  dark 
beetling  brows  sparkled  with  the  humour  of  what  evidently 
was  a  hospitable  soul.  The  stooping  shoulders  and  sallow 
skin  did  not  make  his  a  prepossessing  appearance,  but  be- 
hind it  all  there  was  something  human  which  d:lighted  in 
pouring  out  tea  and  handing  cake  to  the  two  friends  who 
had  come  to  his  rescue. 

He  was  still  a  boy  at  heart  and  behind  his  almost  saintly 
exterior  rejoiced  in  pranks  of  which  a  stranger  could  hardly 
have  believed  him  capable. 

Every  word  that  Hargrove  spoke  seemed  to  carry  the 
echo  of  a  Gregorian  chant — his  face  was  the  face  of  a 
mystic,  and  in  the  subdued  light  of  candles  one  could  visual- 
ize in  him  the  mediaeval  priest  swaying  with  incense  and 
with  ritual  the  souls  of  the  faithful.  While  Kelly  looked 
on  morning  chapel  as  an  alibi,  this  rite  was  an  essential 
purification  of  the  spirit  to  such  as  Hargrove,  who  rejoiced 
in  the  responses  as  if  his  heart  were  in  the  sacrificial  fire. 

With  the  Cathedral  as  its  private  Chapel,  Christ  Church 
was  to  him  an  earthly  Paradise.  The  massive  strength  of 
the  Norman  columns,  the  fairylike  fan-tracery  above  the 
choir,  the  graceful  early  English  arches  of  the  Lady  Chapel 
with  the  watching  chamber  of  St.  Frideswide,  the  simpler 
vaulting  of  the  Latin  Chapel  guarded  by  the  recumbent 
warrior  figure,  comrade  of  the  Black  Prince,  the  great  Nor- 
man door  from  the  Cloisters  to  the  Chapter  House — these 
gave  an  air  which  the  Westminster  scholar  loved  to  breathe. 
For  Wolsey,  the  worldly  Cardinal,  who  had  cut  off  two  of 
the  Norman  arches  to  make  a  great  quadrangle  he  had  a  fine 
contempt. 


^  DRUMS  AFAR 

inZ'kitXn'^  °'  "^'  ^  ^"*^^-''  ^«  -d.  "is  best  kept 

"mostly  in  the  afternoons  Z  fear  of  i    °'^-^' ^."^  P'^^^^ 
bours,  but  this  illusion  was  sonn  H'      ,fT^'"^  ^'^  "^igh- 
not  when  he  began   o  play  onTor    ^^'"'r'  ""^  "^  ^^t^"  ^^ 
It  was  not  long  befor^heiund ThaTrh  ''/^^t^J"  *°  "^*^"- 
tenor  voice,  Jth.  however  a  poor  L^!-"'  ^"^  ^  P'^^^^"^ 
"You  should  begin  w^th  the  EetSs'"  stid  H^^" 
if  you  wish  to  get  the  soirit  nf  „T/     !^l    ^^"^  Hargrove, 
not  find  a  better  place  to  bel  T    T'^^^'  '"^  >'«"  <^°"Jd 
Christ  Church  is  fuH  of  fof^ott '"  -''^    ^^^  ^'^'-^'^  «f 
Thomas  Campion     I'll  fJ    ^T"  f""'  ^'"^'^  t^e  days  of 
your  voice,  anTLn  if  y^uu^'  "'^^  ^  ^^'"'^  ^ouW  suit 
progression.  Hnking  up  th° "    on  JL'^^^^^  '"  ^'^*°"^^^ 

of  the  ballads  of  to-dav     T  Lv.^  i        ^  ^*^  "^'^  ^'^^  ^^t 
too--the  songs  uneartTed  by  CecH  tZ''''''''!  °"  ^^''^-"^ 

Kelly's  hands-uD  exnlnif 7       r      ,    ^  ^'"^  fascmating." 
popularity.     Westmlnste    iH  °'  ''^'^  ^''^^  considefable 
Hargrove  with  hrquiefbuTim^^^^^  '!-^'"?  ^'^"''^h'  -"^ 
of  those  who  knew  him  bes7tJ^^^'°",^"^  '^'  ^^^P^^t 
fat  Fresher  met  v^th  mribution  -1"°'  '°"^  ^^^^'"^  ^^^ 
fountain  of  Tom  Quad     ntn  °  v  k  ^u"'""'^'  *^^  ^'^tonc 
dipped  with  or  without  cere°  on    K   '^u   ^^^^^-^Perous  are 
salutaiy  method  of  teac^hWr    '  '^""^  ^'^^  ^^'^^  ^^is 
stopped  Kelly  one  day  •rtheBrn.Hw';,    ^^'"  *^^  ^ean 
kle  in  his  eye  asked  him  if  he  h^H    ^^^^'  ^"^  ^'^^  ^  ^^i"" 
cigorettes.  '*  ^^  ^^^  ^"^  '"^'-e  Wild  Western 

the^^m^S:^,^^^^^^^^^^  ^^^  opportunity  of  doing 

the^e^turdttin^^^^^^^^^^^  Oxford  is  not 

attentive,  but  the  tutor  who  for  a^^i^  ""^^  r^^  O'"  '«« 
with  each  of  his  pupiirthe  books  T/J  "'f /^'^^  ^ver 
gamed  thereby  the  week  before     q  .  ^""^  knowledge 

scribed  and  an  essarmu.t  £  writtl"'"'\-'f^'"^  ''  p'^' 
graduate  maintains  some  i^:'Z^J^;^J;:-;^ 


DRUMS  AFAR 


27 


found  for  keeping  record  of  a  man's  real  study  and  intelli- 
gence. In  order  to  defend  his  argument,  he  must  digest 
what  he  reads  instead  of  rushing  through  more  books  than 
he  can  remember.  His  brain  goes  actively  to  work  upon  a 
subject,  instead  of  taking  mere  dictation.  He  learns  to 
express  his  thoughts  in  language  which  must  be  clear  and  to 
the  point,  otherwise  he  is  at  his  tutor's  mercy. 

Kelly  took  his  work  more  seriously  than  he  openly  admit- 
ted. It  cost  him  money,  and  your  good  American  gets  his 
money's  worth.  Five  hours  was  his  daily  modicum  of  study, 
if  he  had  to  steal  the  hours  from  sleep.  Suddenly,  how- 
ever, came  the  spell  of  golf  which  for  a  fortnight  obsessed 
him  so  that,  in  his  own  language,  he  went  to  bed  with  his 
mashie.  He  practised  stymies  of  an  evening  on  a  baby  green 
which  he  had  made  by  filling  a  large  flat  bathtub  with  turf, 
and  swished  his  driver  before  a  full-length  mirror  in  the 
style  depicted  in  his  "Guide  to  Golfers." 

The  result  was  that  the  fi\e  hours  dwindled  down  to  two, 
and  Kelly  one  week  actually  cut  his  tutor.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  plead  an  sger,  for  that  very  afternoon  on  the  links 
he  spliced  a  ball  into  that  very  individual.  One  morning, 
on  the  second  week  of  this  infatuation,  Charles  and  Har- 
grove went  to  him  for  breakfast,  and  whether  it  was  that 
he  was  off  his  game,  or  conscience  smote  him,  he  declared 
his  intention  of  turning  over  a  new  leaf. 

"Trouble  is,"  he  said,  "that  this  week  I  haven't  read  a 
line,  and  Blinkers  sent  me  a  note  last  night  that  his  hour  is 
ten  o'clock  to-day,  not  the  week  after  next.  Guess  it's 
face  the  music  for  mine." 

"I  can  help  you,"  said  Hargrove.  "Doesn't  Blinkers  live 
in  Meadows,  staircase  three?" 

"Sure  thing." 

"Well,  if  you  can  keep  him  going  for  twenty  minutes, 
we'll  do  the  rest." 

Kelly  wished  to  know  the  plan,  but  Hargrove  sucked 
his  pipe  mysteriously  and  gave  no  answer  but  a  chuckle. 

As  soon  as  Kelly  had  left  them,  Hargrove  dashed  up- 
stairs to  his  rooms  and  fetched  a  piece  of  rope. 


28 


DRUMS  AFAR 


one  to  come  who  has  a  rope  "  ^^'^kcrs.     Ask  any 

.0  .hose  whrFu^p  ftf hirtes"  ?.'"''  T"  "^  ™"''«J 
oversight,  Mr.  C.  F  BliS  ivf  I  Z^''^  ^  regrettable 
Church,  who  occupies  fhVr^^  ^■^'  ^!""''"'  "^  Christ 
vised  of  the  contest  Lttf  ^'''"''  ""^  ""'  "^^  ^d" 

tion  betw«rte™s  .hi  "'/T""™«  "*  >  "■»P«i- 
somethinTtrha^,;!n^  P  '"'!!>'  "'"  ^»  ^e^H^c  that 
I  blow  ^s  whS^"'"''-    ''"^"d.ngs  will  commence  when 

oaken  t,fs  cXXt^tlTr  *'"  "'"='^-    ^he  stout 

Ask  Mr.  Blinkers  to  come  and  see  for  himself"  c,-^ 
Hargrove.  w,th  a  coolness  that  surprised  them  al' 

The  scout  hesitated.     He  did  nof  HI,.  f« 
graduate  run  the  risk  of  beinj'senTd^wn      "'  "  ""'"" 

Charlls  looked  ourand'""   "^'"^   *^'"'«''   *=   --d"". 

Wait  a  Jiff,"  he  shouted  to  the  scout   ratri,;»,„  u-      • 
time.    "I'll  eo  down  a«,4        1  •        r  .      '  *^^*'^"in&  him  in 

•       ^  "  go  aown  and  explain.     It's  all  rirrUt  ^^ 
fellows.     The  conte«;t  will  ^„  *•         •  ^"^  "°^'  ^o" 

liic  contest  will  continue  in  KeIIv'<5  f-r^««,o   • 
Peckwater.    Huriy  along "  ^       °""^^  '" 

..."  ™.=.r.:s,ri';,si- - 


DRUMS  AFAR 


29 


champion  practised  in  the  rooms  above.  Still  even  a  teacher 
of  political  economy  can  turn." 

Kelly  was  pouring  out  drinks  for  the  crowd  when  Charles 
got  back  to  Peckwater. 

"Blinkers  took  it  very  well,"  he  was  saying.  "At  first  he 
looked  up  quietly  when  the  plaster  dropped  from  the  ceil- 
ing. 'Rhodes  scholars,  I  presume,  playing  Euchre.'  Then 
at  a  terrific  thump,  'I  hope  that  isn't  Clayton's  head  upon 
the  floor.  It  is  not  as  if  he  were  a  Scotchman.' — Then,  when 
the  pictures  started  to  fall  down,  he  rose  and  said,  'Thank 
you,  Mr.  Kelly,  we  can  finish  this  next  week.  Perhaps  in 
the  meantime  it  would  be  wise  for  us  to  seek  refuge  on  the 
Cathedral  Spire.     You  may  have  the  weathercock." 

It  was  in  the  variety  of  types  he  met  that  Charles  found 
Oxford  most  entertaining.  Books  were  all  very  well,  sport 
and  the  river  were  still  better,  but  best  of  all  was  this 
intercourse  with  men  of  different  upbringing,  circumstances, 
character,  ideals,  manners. 

Kelly  was  unique,  and  when  they  were  better  acquainted 
and  sat  over  the  fire  loosening  their  tongues  with  mulled 
claret  he  cast  the  spell  of  the  West  upon  our  more  sophisti- 
cated Englishman.  On  several  such  occasions  Mackenzie, 
rubbing  his  tired  eyes,  would  join  them. 

"What  really  brought  you  here  ?"  asked  Charles  of  Kelly 
on  such  a  night.  "You  have  your  own  American  Univer- 
sities, presumably  the  best  on  earth." 

"Well,  I  am  several  kinds  of  a  damn  fool.  I'm  here 
for  a  rest  cure — doing  nc  thing  makes  me  feel  bully.  I 
like  this  quiet  backwater  where  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  play 
around  and  feel  good." 

"I  always  thought  you  one  of  those  post-graduate  fel- 
lows." 

"Not  exactly — Diploma  in  Economics  and  Political  Sci- 
ence is  what  they  have  stuck  me  for.  Tutor  is  one  of  those 
metaphysical  guys  that  keep  you  rubbernecking  all  the  time 
to  find  out  what  they  mean.  See,  it's  like  this,  I  was  an  attor- 
ney in  Chicago — graduated  in  the  John  Marshall  School 
after  a  mixed  diet  of  textbooks  and  cases — working  in  the 


30 


DRUMS  AFAR 


courts  and  in  the  office  from  eight  in  the  morning  to  two 

a  baseball  game-partner  in  a  live  firm  where  we  worked  to 

wTi     f  t';;^.  ^'"'  ^  ^°^  '^°  *^^*  I  ^^"'^'^'t  smoke  a  dg  r 
without  I  had  two  meals  under  my  belt,  so  Doctor  savs 

to  me  one  day    'Mike/  he  says-th'ey  call  me  Se  Zr 

TravV  ir"    '*°'  ^"'^  "^^'  "°^'  ""'  >°"'"  ^°  bughouse. 
1  ravel-get   some  ozone  into  your  system-take  a   sea- 

X'r?;uVe^""P^"^^^  ^  P'"^  English  girl  with  no 
I  took  n  '  ^  "^  T'  °^"  "P  ^*  b°th  ends.'  Well. 
I  took  Doc  s  advice  and  came  over  in  the  ^rfna^,V-did 
Rome  and  Vienna  and  Berlin  and  Paris-some  burg  pIh  . 
-and  then  to  dear  old  England,  and  was  beginning  to  feel 

week.     Then.  why.  I  just  sat  around  and  laughed  till  I 

cried.    Gee!  to  see  them  chickens »  ^ 

"Chickens  ?" 

"Why  yes,  girls-flopping  around  Tom  Quad-and  to 
watch  the  races  and  see  the  barges  and  the  boys  in  the  r 

aTd  nun  :  '^T  ,"'^  *^'^"^  *^^^^  ^^^*  ^^^^  out'in  cano 
and  punts,  and  the  roses  and  the  hedges  and  the  lawns 

'MTke"?rsJd"t"hi?lT"  "^"*  ^°  '""^^  ''  -  ^P-'^I- 
Mike.  1  said,  this  looks  good  to  me.'    So  when  thines  had 

quieted  down  a  bit,     had  a  nice  visit  with  the  Dean   who 

took  me  to  see  that  portrait  of  William  Penn  and  said  he 

hked  Americans  and  that  the  only  thing  they  needed  to  be 

uLl"  Wh:t'?  ""fT^  finish-D^iplonfa  wa^  the  word  h 
used.    What  finished  me  was  the  kitchen-have  you  ever 
seen  anything  to  beat  it?-forty  feet  square  and  forty  fee 
high,  with  tall  windows  like  a  cathedral,  and  long  ranees 
against  the  walls,  and  an  old  English  open  fire  w^th  a  chop 
pmg  block  in  the  centre  and  Cardinal  Wolsey's  old  gridiro^n 

chircrTCj-r-  "'L^'^"; '  ^^"  ^°"-  ^^  ^-  oi'^^t 

oi  K    I  u-       ^^"^'^^  *^^  P'^^«  ^b^'-e  a   fellow   could 
get  back  his  appetite.     Yet  the  Dean  sold  me  on  Christ 
Church,  so  I  asked  him  to  set  my  name  in  the  books     Wei 
I  came  up  early  and  cleaned  all  the  junk  out  of  these  rooms 
to  make  them  more  like  home-and  here  I  am  having  a 


DRUMS  AFAR 


31 


whale  of  a  time  sparring  with  the  head  cook  and  getting 
back  my  appetite  and  studying  economics  and  waiting  for 
the  pink  English  girl." 

"I  have  two  sisters,"  said  Charles,  "both  expert  in  the  use 
of  rouge,  who  would  be  glad  to  oblige  if  only  you  had  a 
title." 

"Call  me  descendant  of  Irish  Kings.  Oh,  I  should  worry ! 
My  fate  will  come  along  in  good  time.  But  till  then  let 
me  eat  and  play  golf  and  take  sugar  with  my  fingers  and 
think  I  am  back  in  the  Middle  Ages  with  horse-cars  and 
no  telephones  or  radiators,  and  paying  Battels  instead  of 
Bills — and  believe  me  they  are  some  Battels,  where  they 
charge  like  hell — and  then  the  husky  old  curfew  of  Great 
Tom,  with  its  hundred  and  one  strokes  every  night — still, 
you  have  electric  light." 

"More's  the  pity,"  said  Charles.  "We  should  have  stuck 
to  the  old  motto  of  the  University — Dominus  Illuminatio 
Mea." 

"How  do  you  translate  that?" 

"You  might  put  it  'The  Lord  is  my  Lantern,' "  said 
Charles. 

"I'm  with  you  there,  Fitz!"  said  Kelly  laughing.  "I'm 
not  one  of  those  wise  guys  that  want  this  Noah's  Ark 
brought  up  to  the  minute.  I  can  get  a  room  with  a  bath  at 
two  or  three  hotels  in  London  if  I  take  my  hat  in  my  hand 
and  speak  nicely  to  the  manager.  But  honest  to  God  I  do 
love  to  wake  in  the  morning  to  hear  Silas  pouring  cold  water 
into  the  large  tin  saucer  you  call  a  tub,  and  then  get  a  whiff 
of  smoke  from  the  chimney  that  won't  draw  as  he  lights 
the  fire.  It  brings  back  the  old  camp  way  back  in  the 
bush,  when  Bill  Foster  and  I  went  hunting  and  had  God's 
own  time.  Don't  I  wish  I  was  there  now !  Well,  I  get  up 
and  put  the  pan  on  the  fire  to  warm  my  shaving  water, 
and  by  the  time  it's  ready  I'm  due  to  be  gated  for  missing 
morning  chapel.  Yet  perhaps  it's  as  well  I  have  to  stay 
at  home  with  spotters  prowling  around  whenever  there's  a 
good-looker  in  sight." 

"Spotters  ? — ah,  proctors." 


32 


DRUMS  AFAR 


ntW^^TV.  ^  Y'^^^.^'^y'  Fitz-we'Il  soon  understand  each 
other.    Then  breakfast  with  no  icewater  to  wash  it  down 

l^Zu  'r  "T/'^ '  ^1^'  °'^  ^y  '"  ^'^  '^^t"'-^  y^^^terday 
said  that  Cambridge  was  known  as  the  largest  cattle  market 
in  the  provinces  -Do  you  know.  Fitz.  that  took  mc  way 
back  home  to  Chicago.  Don't  I  wish  I  could  show  you  our 
stockyards.  Oh,  we've  got  a  University  too-twice  as  many 
students  as  you  have  here."  ^ 

"Do  you  know  them  all?" 

'Not  on  your  sweet  life,  old  man;  but  it's  easier  to 
break  ,n  there  than  here-  Say,  I  like  to  see  the  gentle- 
manly way  you  boys  kick  each  other's  shins  here  af  foot- 
ball without  apologizing  till  you've  been  introduced,  and  the 
ladylike  way  you  talk  and  the  old-fashioned  way  you  have 
of  going  on  the  jag— Good  night  1" 

"We're  just  going." 

"Who  said  go  ?" 

"You  said  good  night!" 

"Why.  that's  the  American  language  and  just  means 
•Can  you  beat  it?'— Savvy?" 

"All  right,  you  heathen  Chinaman,  some  day  as  a  pen- 
nance  for  my  sins  I  shall  cross  the  Atlantic  to  learn  your 

"Sure  do!    Well,  you  may  learn  by  then  to  speak  more 
n  ?v  uT^"  .bemg,  but  It  will  take  you  longer  than  that 

H^aT^u^u  ^T  °"'"  ^^""''^  ^"^"<1  h^^^'  Macken- 
zie, hed  get  the  hang  of  it  quicker-he's  a  regular  dollar- 
chaser,  has  his  eye  already  on  a  job  in  some  University 
away  up  near  the  North  Pole,  where  he'll  be  a  big  bug  and 
write  books  that  his  students  will  have  to  pay  for  with  good 

Mackenzie  chuckled.  He  was  a  small  almost  stunted  fel- 
low with  a  large  head,  and  obtrusive  spectacles,  who  had 
an  almost  uncanny  capacity  for  work.  "Smug"  was  the 
term  applied  to  such,  for  he  took  no  part  in  games  or  sport, 
being  satisfied  with  a  daily  grind  to  Iffley  or  Godstow  as  a 
rule  in  the  company  of  other  Scots.  Oxford  to  such  as 
these  was  an  expense  the  value  of  which  must  be  extracted 


DRUMS  AFAR 


33 


to  the  last  penny.  Their  greatest  relaxation  was  the  Thurs- 
day night  debate  at  the  Union.  That  indeed  was  almost 
the  only  common  ground  on  which  Charles  and  Mackenzie 
met,  for  Charles  went  there  to  learn  from  more  practised 
speakers  and  Kelly  too  found  here  in  the  introductory  half 
hour  of  "Private  Business"  the  source  of  much  innocent 
mirth. 

As  the  term  advanced,  the  call  of  the  river  became  of  all 
the  most  incessant.  Charles  began  to  understand  the  joy 
of  feeling  the  boat  lift  under  a  leg-drive,  and  learned  the 
knack  of  wrist-play  and  shoulder-work  and  body-swing 
which  at  first  seemed  so  difficult. 

The  discipline  did  him  a  world  of  good.  The  accom- 
plished coach  has  the  happy  knack  of  making  the  self-satis- 
fied Fresher  realize  that  he  is  a  babe  who  after  a  thousand 
years  might  be  permitted  to  go  in  a  rowboat  with  a  nurse. 
Once  reduced  to  a  true  understanding  of  his  place  in  the 
universe,  the  afore-said  Fresher  can  be  trained  into  the 
modesty  and  perfect  motion  which  wastes  not  an  ounce  of 
misdirected  energy — his  whole  being  attuned  to  a  common 
effort.  The  greatest  of  all  crimes  for  any  one  but  stroke  is 
to  have  an  independent  thought  or  be  individually  brilliant. 
No  place  in  the  boats  for  the  airy  insouciance  which  one 
may  parade  with  impunity  when  with  one's  tutor. 

Severe  though  the  exercise  might  be,  the  sluggish,  ener- 
vating Oxford  air  made  exercise  a  necessity  for  health.  In 
summer,  perhaps,  with  the  sunlight  flooding  the  towers  and 
spires,  Oxford  may  be  "the  silver  city"  of  the  poet's  vision, 
but  from  late  October  to  early  spring,  from  the  last  falling 
leaf  to  the  earliest  lilac  in  the  gardens  of  St.  John's,  it  is 
a  city  of  dark  greys  and  leaden  skies. 

Youth  alone  with  effulgent  spirit  lightens  the  gloom,  fills 
the  playing  fields  and  the  river  with  bright  energy  and 
colour,  beats  down  the  fatal  miasma  with  the  flail  of  almost 
perpetual  motion. 

Great  wao  Charles's  gratification  when  the  captain  of  the 
boats  came  !  nd  one  evening  to  tell  him  he  would  have  a 
place  in  Torpids. 


34 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 
li  I 


"Which  Togger?"  he  asked  eagerly. 

"Third,"  said  the  captain  brusquely. 

At  which  Charles  felt  snubbed,  yet  brightened  again 
when  he  considered  that  such  a  place  was  I  pfter  than  no 
place  at  all. 

This  was  news  that  he  could  not  kee^  io  himself  sc  he 
ran  down  to  tell  Kelly.  ' 

"Why,  that's  dandy,"  oaid  the  American.  'Yet  niaVc  we 
feel  a  regular  slacker.  Still,  I  have  good  news  myself 
Friend  of  mine  in  Constantinople  has  hired  the  Sultan's 
late  chef— who  had  poisoned  the  wrong  wife,  and  so  got  let 
out— so  I  am  booked  for  Christmas  at  the  Golden  Horn, 
and  if  I  don't  come  back  with  Turkish  recipes  enough  to 
make  Hargrove  into  a  Mohammedan  call  me  a  Dutchman." 

Frank  Mainwaring  had  also  won  a  place  in  the  same 
boat,  and  Charles  found  he  was  already  friendly  with  most 
of  the  other  members  of  the  crew. 

The  College  Examination  known  as  Collections  and  the 
Law  Prelim  were  safely  navigated,  and  when  he  went  down 
for  his  firs:  Vacation  he  felt  that  his  first  term  had  not  been 
spent  in  vain. 


CHAPTER  III 

FULL  of  the  glad  news,  Charles  went  home  to  Rich- 
mond for  Christmas  expecting  the  welcome  of  a 
hero. 

"Very  nice,"  said  his  mother.  "But  what  friends 
have  you  made  at  Christ  Church?  Have  you  met  any 
members  of  the  aristocracy?" 

"No,"  he  replied,  suddenly  on  edge,  "but  I  know  a  man 
who  did." 

"My  dear  Charles,"  cried  his  mother,  "how  can  you  come 
home  with  such  a  story !  Think  of  the  money  your  father 
is  spending  on  your  Oxford  career." 

"Yes,"  said  Charles,  "and  think  of  the  money  I  am  saving 
him.  If  I  were  to  go  about  with  bloods,  I'd  have  to  join 
the  BulHngdon,  and  that  would  mean  a  thousand  a  year— 
besides  they  never  would  elect  a  Pauline.  Fate  has  ordained 
me  to  be  an  Ornament  to  the  Middle  Classes." 

"How  does  the  Ornament  propose  to  earn  a  living?"  in- 
terjected his  father  from  behind  the  Financial  Times. 

"I  have  a  remote  hope  of  becoming  a  publicist,"  answered 
Charles. 

"What  sort  of  a  saloon  does  he  keep?" 

"He  serves  the  bar  of  public  opinion— higher  joumai.  .ii 
and  that  sort  of  thing— writes  leading  articles  which  in- 
fluence current  thought." 

"If  you  could  influence  the  stockmarkets,  you  would  be 
more  useful.  Pray  don't  mistake  your  father  for  a  philan- 
thropist." 

"Charles,  you  have  disappointed  us,"  said  Qara,  the  elder 
sister.  "We  thought  you  could  introduce  us  to  the  right 
sort,  when  we  came  to  visit  you  in  Eighths  Week.  You  wrote 
to  us  from  Oxford  on  such  nice  crested  notepaper  that  we 

35 


36 


DRUMS  AFAR 


thought  you  must  really  have  g(     in  among  good  people. 
You  said  you  had  a  German  baron  on  your  staircase." 

"Did  I  ?  Well  he's  supposed  to  be  a  spy.  All  those  Ger- 
man Rhodes  Scholars  are  barons  or  vons  and  much  too  rich 
to  be  h^peoC.    Try  some  one  else.'' 

"If  only  I  had  your  opportunities !" 

"Clara,  my  dear,"  replied  Charles,  "if  your  ambition  is 
to  catch  a  title,  why  don't  you  join  the  chorus  at  the  Gaiety  ? 
All  I  can  offer  you  at  Christ  Church  is  a  lawyer  from  Chi- 
cago ?" 

"Do  they  allow  them  there?"  cried  Mrs.  Fitzmorris. 

"In  Chicago?     Why  not?" 

"Charles,  do  not  be  foolish.  Of  course  I  meant  Chicago 
lawyers  at  Christ  Church," 

"We  positively  dote  on  them,"  said  Charles.  "This  one 
is  called  Kelly — he  is  the  nicest  man  on  my  staircase  and 
speaks  three  languages  in  one.  Has  been  ordered  to  marry 
by  his  doctor.  I  gave  him  his  choice  of  you  two  girls,  but 
I  think  he  would  prefer  a  milkmaid." 

Ciaia  shrugged  her  shoulders.  Joyce,  the  younger  sister 
continue!  the  interrogation. 

"If  you  haven't  met  any  titles,  weren't  there  any  with 
double-barrelled  names  ?" 

"Why  yes,  Staynes-Manners,  also  on  my  staircase,  but 
there  is  a  regrettable  tendency  among  us  to  call  him  Stag- 
gers-Maggers." 

"Father,  dear,"  remarked  Mrs.  Fitzmorris,  "I  wish  we 
had  sent  Charles  to  some  other  college.  He  seems  to  have 
got  into  low  company." 

"Better  low  company  than  high  finance,"  said  Charles. 

At  which  his  father,  who  found  it  difficult  to  keep  u^ 
with  the  social  ambitions  of  his  womankind,  smiled  indul- 
gently and  decided  that  his  son  had  a  certain  amount  of 
common-sense. 

This  craze  for  blue  blood  had  caused  the  elder  Fitzmor- 
ris .some  inconvenience  in  a  sphere  where  petticoat  influ- 
ence seemed  out  of  place,  namely  his  business.  To  please 
his  wife  he  had  allowed  a  lordling  to  be  director  in  a  com- 


DRJMS  AFAR 


37 


pany  he  controlled,  but  he  ^nidge  the  guinea-pig's  fees. 
Other  such  directors  loomed  within  sight,  and  h?  wished  to 
heaven  his  wife  would  let  t^  j  House  of  Lords  alone. 

Charles,  before  he  went  *o  Oxford,  had  laughed  at  the 
snobbishness  of  his  family,  br.t  not  till  now  did  he  realize  its 
blatancy.  His  sisters  echoed  Society  gossip,  and  the  Christ- 
mas vacation  to  which  he  had  pleasantly  looked  forward 
became  distressing.  He  pleaded  work  when  they  wished 
to  drag  him  to  Charity  Ralls  or  Bazaars,  and  when  that 
excuse  failed  shunned  the  house  from  early  breakfast  to 
h'e  at  night. 

There  were  two  things  about  Oxford  that  Charles  found 
out  in  his  first  term.  First,  that  the  serious  reading  for  the 
Schools  is  done  not  in  term  but  during  the  vacations,  and 
second,  ihat  the  University  itself  is  more  or  less  a  youth- 
ful suburb  of  the  House  of  Commons.  To  keep  afloat, 
he  must  therefore  spend  this  Christmas  in  studying,  first, 
the  books  prescribed  for  his  School  in  History,  and,  second, 
the  harangues  of  Lloyd  George,  the  preciosities  of  Mr.  Bal- 
four anc  '  »  diplomatic  evasions  of  Mr.  Asquith,  >vhich 
were  subjects  of  so  much  debate  among  the  men  he  met. 
Reading  at  home  was  subject  to  too  much  interruption,  but 
at  the  British  Museum  and  at  the  London  Library  he  could 
immerse  himself  ?  t  to  midday  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
while  after  lunch  he  could  swallow  Old  Age  Pensions,  Death 
Duties,  Woman's  Suffrage,  Land  Taxes  and  Labour  Ex- 
changes. 

In  the  evenings  there  were  concerts  and  the  theatre,  more 
particularly  the  theatre,  where  Charles  discovered  he  had 
an  unexpected  capacity  for  sen*"nent.  He  went  to  The 
Blue  Bird  for  the  first  time,  and  wept.  He  went  for  the 
second  time,  and  wept  again.  A  third,  a  fourth  and  a  fifth 
time,  still  resulting  in  tears. 

The  sixth  time  he  went,  he  was  taken  by  his  father,  who 
had  never  read  the  newspaper  critiques  and  imagined  that 
as  the  play  was  so  popular  it  must  be  musical  comedy.  Dis- 
covering after  fifteen  rninuies  that  it  was  a  symbolic  play 
for  children,  he  suggested  they  should  pass  on  to  the  Fm- 


DRUMS  AFAR 


^nre,  but  was  persuaded  to  remain.  After  further  fidgeting, 
the  stock-broker  grew  quiet,  and  at  the  scene  where  the 
children  play  again  with  their  lost  brothers  and  sisters  the 
tears  began  to  trickle  down  his  cheeks.  Charles  aflFected 
not  to  notice,  but,  when  as  the  play  went  on  the  tears 
flowed  again,  he  took  out  his  own  handkerchief  and  wiped 
away  his  own  tears  so  openly  that  his  father  took  notice 
and  did  the  same. 

"Who  would  have  thought  it  possible,"  said  Mr.  Fitzmor- 
ris  after  the  play  was  over  and  attempted  to  regain  his  nor- 
mal spirits  over  a  Httle  supper  at  the  Carlton.  "It's  all  very 
well  for  you — ^you  are  young  and  impressionable — ^but  I  am 
an  old  stager,  hard  as  nails  when  it  comes  to  business.  I 
believe  this  must  be  some  hereditary  weakness — ^this  weep- 
ing over  a  play — like  bad  teeth  or  a  tendency  to  gout.  I 
must  ask  my  doctor  about  it." 

"Whatever  it  is,"  said  Charles,  "you  seem  to  have  passed 
it  on  to  me.  Have  you  any  other  failings  that  I  can  look 
out  for?" 

"Sometimes  I  have  a  homicidal  mania,"  replied  Mr.  Fitz- 
morris,  "These  young  fellows  the  girls  bring  home  seem  to 
bring  it  on." 

"I've  noticed  that  symptom  myself,"  said  Charles.  "They 
certainly  are  the  worst  kind  of  worm.  If  the  feeling  attacks 
you  again  and  I  am  around,  let  me  do  the  shooting." 

"By  Jove,"  said  the  elder,  "I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so! 
I  was  afraid  that  Oxford  would  develop  you  into  the  same 
kind  of  pup.  The  sins  of  the  father  may  be  visited  upon 
the  children,  but  the  affectations  of  the  children  are  punish- 
ment enough  for  the  worst  father  I  ever  met.  What  kind 
of  men  do  you  really  come  across  at  Christ  Church  ?" 

Charles  described  some  of  his  friends,  more  particularly 
Kelly. 

"Bring  him  out  to  the  house  if  he  comes  to  town,"  said 
Mr.  Fitzmorris.    "He  seems  to  be  an  original." 

On  the  day  before  vacation  ended,  great  was  Charles's 
joy  to  hear  in  Picr-'dilly  the  hail  of  his  American  friend. 

"Hullo,  Fitz,  wliat's  the  best  word?" 


DRUMS  AFAR 


39 


Charles  turned  with  a  smile  to  welcome  Kelly. 

"Well,  of  all  people!  How  did  you  find  the  Sultan's 
harem?    Did  you  discover  the  secret  of  Turkish  Delight?" 

"Wait  and  you'll  see.  Had  the  time  of  my  life.  Gee, 
but  all  the  same  it  is  good  to  be  back  in  this  little  old 
village." 

"Then  you  haven't  met  your  fate  yet?" 

"No,  but  I've  got  one  on  the  string  who  i.i  '  unt  a  year's 
time  might  let  rne  in  on  the  same  level  as  her  fox-terrier. 
Fitz,  you  son  of  a  gun,  she's  a  peach,  and  has  all  the  rest 
of  them  faded." 

"Glad  to  hear  it,  also  to  think  that  we  shan't  lose  you 
yet  awhile.     Does  this  mean  you  are  captured?" 

"Still  a  loophole,  and  I've  got  to  keep  my  hand  in,  so  if 
you  see  something  in  petticoats  just  right,  remember  Kelly. 
Who  says  a  little  drink? — Gee!  it's  good  to  see  your  face 
again.    I'm  glad  to  see  you  and  glad  twice  over." 

Charles  hesitated. 

"Not  on  the  water-wagon?" 

"No,  but " 

"Yes,  but — as  an  appetizer.  I've  struck  quite  a  cute  place 
if  you  want  to  eat;  corned  beef  and  cabbage — there's  no 
finer  fruit  in  the  world." 

Kelly  was  irresistible. 

"First  of  all  a  little  cocktail,"  taking  Charles's  arm  and 
walking  him  into  a  bar  over  which  there  hung  the  sign 
American  Drinks." 

"Rosie," — this  to  the  barmaid — "mix  rtiL  a  nice  little 
Ward  Eight,  and  another  for  Fitz  here,  Fitz — Rosie — Rosie 
—Fitz." 

"Pleased  to  meet  you,"  said  Rosie,  offering  a  display  of 
gold  and  imitation  diamonds  which  presumably  concealed  a 
hand.  Then  to  Kelly:  "That's  a  new  one.  Tell  me  how 
to  mix  it." 

"It's  what  the  Irish  drink  in  Boston,"  replied  Kelly. 
"First  a  little  ice — then  a  squeeze  of  lemon — then  raspberry 
juice  and  rye  and  soda  and  a  shake  and  another  squeeze  of 
lemon,  and  then  you're  ready  to  vote  right " 


40 


DRUMS  AFAR 


ii 


I 


"Does  that  mean  two  votes  or  three  ?"  said  Charles. 

"Mike,"  said  Rosie,  "you  know  we  don't  have  ice." 

"Then  why  'American  Drinks'?" 

"I  spoke  to  the  boss  about  it,  but  he  said  if  any  customer 
wanted  it  he  could  bring  his  own." 

"Ice  or  no  ice,  Rosie,  you  are  certainly  some  mixer." 

Then  after  taking  the  cocktail  which  certainly  tasted 
good,  he  said : 

"Now  for  the  good  old  stand-by.  Just  round  the  corner, 
corned  beef  and  cabbage  and  pumpkin  pie.  Makes  me 
think  of  mother — but,  hell,  this  is  no  country  for  pie!" 

"Makes  me  think  of  Hargrove,"  said  Charles. 

And  they  both  laughed  heartily  at  the  recollection  of  that 
adventure  on  the  staircase. 

His  second  term  at  Oxford  taught  Charles  what  it  was 
to  be  in  strict  training.  Smoking  was  taboo,  and  he  opened 
his  lungs  before  breakfast  with  a  hiindred  yards  sprint  and 
then  a  sharp  walk  round  Meadows.  At  the  training  break- 
fasts each  of  the  Eight  devoured  a  giant's  portion  lightened 
only  by  squish — otherwise  marmalade — and  the  green  vege- 
table known  as  rabbit-food.  A  sleepy  forenoon  and  a  light 
lunch  were  followed  by  the  muscular  discipline  of  the  river. 
Then  a  cup  of  tea  and  relaxation  until  another  heavy  meal 
at  dinner,  after  which  an  hour  in  the  J.  C.  R.,  bed  at  nine 
o'clock,  and  an  exhausted  slumber. 

Considering  themselves  to  some  extent  champions  of  the 
rest  of  the  House,  every  eight  of  them,  even  though  they 
were  only  the  Third  Togger,  inclined  to  put  on  airs.  It 
was  the  Isis,  that  weekly  epitome  of  undergraduate  wisdom, 
which  humbled  them  with  the  cutting  reference: 

"Christ  Church  have  not  a  Fourth  this  year,  and  by  the 
look  of  their  Third  have  some  difficulty  in  raising  that." 

An  indignation  meeting  was  held  in  the  rooms  of  Bayley, 
the  stroke,  who  proposed  that  they  should  kidnap  the  editor 
and  make  him  eat  the  insulting  page  in  their  presence,  or 
else  be  ducked  in  Mercury,  the  fountain  in  Tom  Quad. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


41 


Another  demanded  that  a  copy  of  the  paper  should  be 
publicly  burned  in  Peckwater. 

Better  counsels  however  prevailed,  particularly  when 
Jeffers,  their  coach,  came  in  and  told  them  that  the  his 
was  just  about  right. 

"What  it  says  is  true  now,"  he  remarked.  "But  you 
can  make  it  look  silly  if  you  keep  strict  training  and  plug 
like  hell." 

JeflFers  was  a  fair-headed  bull-voiced  martinet  who  had 
rowed  for  the  House  in  last  Summer  Eights  and  therefore 
was  not  allowed  a  place  in  Torpids.  He  had  at  the  same 
time  sufficient  tact  to  temper  truth  with  sympathy.  Just  a 
short  time  before,  the  'Varsity,  a  snobbish  rival  to  the  I  sis, 
had  uttered  a  now  classic  mot. 

"The  best  men,"  it  had  said,  "avoid  the  debates  at  the 
Union." 

Thinking  of  this  Jeffers  continued, 

"The  best  men  do  not  row  in  Torpids.  They  spend  the 
afternoon  playing  pills,  auction  bridge  or  other  such  manly 
sport." 

The  laugh  that  greeted  his  remarks  encouraged  him  to 
proceed. 

"They  are  above  taking  any  interest  in  the  good  name  of 
the  House  to  which  they  belong,  or  a  pride  in  its  place  upon 
the  river.  They  train  all  day  for  their  evening  'wines,' 
culminating  in  'rags,'  the  cost  of  which  they  are  not  too 
proud  to  share  with  quieter  mortals  like  you  and  me.  Now 
what  we've  got  to  do,  every  man  Jack  of  us,  is  not  to  de- 
generate into  the  example  of  the  'best  men,'  but  to  show 
these  arm-chair  critics  that  they  are  wrong.  I've  just  sent 
the  editor  of  the  Isis  an  offer  to  bet  a  hundred  pounds  to 
one  that  Christ  Church  HI  will  go  up  three  places.  H  you 
don't  go  up,  I'm  so  much  out  of  pocket.  But  I  think  I'm 
going  to  win." 

"Good  old  Jeffers !"  shouted  Bayley,  and  "Good  old  Jef- 
fers !"  said  they  all. 

Charles  and  Frank  had  meant  to  take  at  least  one  night 
off  for  an  O.U.D.S.  performance  of  The  Tempest,  but 


42 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i   - 


I  11 


!  •: 


loyalty  to  Jeffers  put  such  thoughts  out  of  mind,  and  from 
that  moment  th  y  and  every  member  of  the  crew  kept  to 
the  strict  letter  of  their  regimen. 

They  were  indeed  a  clean-cut,  healthy  minded  set  of  fel- 
lows—sons of  middle  class  parents,  three  of  them  scholars 
and  the  rest  commoners  sent  to  the  University  to  rub  the 
angles  off  their  youthful  ardour. 

Bayley,  the  stroke,  had  learned  to  row  at  Radnor, 
whereas  the  others  were  all  new  to  the  river.  Jenkins,  a 
classical  scholar,  Todd  and  Moberly,  who  rowed  seven,  six 
and  five  were  all  from  Westminster.  Frank  Mainwaring 
was  four,  Charles  three,  Grant,  a  Canadian  Rhodes  scholar, 
was  two,  and  Stanley,  a  tough  wiry  Carthusian,  rowed  bow. 
Gilmore,  the  cox,  who  in  spite  of  his  diminutive  size  was 
the  only  one  of  them  to  wear  a  moustache,  was  an  Austra- 
lian, and  always  at  loggerheads  with  Grant,  the  Canadian, 
on  the  respective  greatness  of  their  two  countries.  Gil- 
more's  moustache  was  the  subject  of  much  good-humoured 
chaff.  It  won  him  such  nicknames  as  that  of  the  Wild  Man 
of  Borneo,  all  of  which  made  Gilmore  tug  his  precious 
appendage  the  more  fiercely  and  retort  that  he  would  fight 
any  of  those  present  when  they  grew  up. 

Training  at  first  took  ten  pounds  off  Charles's  weight, 
then  added  the  muscle  which  raised  the  ^  lies  again  and 
so  enlarged  his  chest  that  the  fancy  waistcoats  began  to 
grow  tight.  For  a  time  he  lost  the  inclination  to  replace 
them.  Harris  tweeds  and  square  toed  thick-soled  shoes 
were  more  now  to  his  fancy  than  his  first  finery,  and  Silas 
came  in  for  a  legacy  v>hich  enabled  his  eldest  offspring 
next  vacation  to  paralyze  his  fellows. 

If  Kelly  had  not  been  an  American,  and  therefore  subject 
to  the  licence  of  a  foreigner,  Charles  might  have  lost  friend- 
ship with  one  who  took  such  iittle  interest  in  the  river. 
They  dined  now  during  training  time  at  different  tables, 
but  on  Sunday  evenings  Charies  stil'  dropped  into  Kelly's 
rooms  for  a  talk  till  the  appointed  bedtime. 

With  so  much  to  distract  him,  the  beauty  of  the  old 
buildings,  the  romance  that  clung  to  every  corner  left 


DRUMS  AFAR 


43 


Charles  indifferent.  He  found  more  interest  in  exercise 
and  good  fellowship.  Hargrove,  the  Westminster  scholar, 
who  sometimes  joined  their  talks,  put  in  his  word  without 
avail.  Hargrove  bicycled  each  afternoon  to  one  or  other 
of  the  many  fourteenth  or  fifteenth  century  parish  churches 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Oxford.  There  some  Norman  door 
or  mural  painting  or  brass  or  curious  belfry  charmed  his 
soul. 

"The  trouble  with  you,  Fitz,"  said  Kelly,  "is  that  you 
don't  know  how  lucky  you  are  to  be  here.  It's  fine  and 
dandy  to  be  a  good  sport,  but  I've  got  a  hunch  that  Har- 
grove with  his  head  chock  full  of  ghosts  has  got  you  all 
skinned.  I  sometimes  get  a  rise  out  of  him  myself  for 
living  before  the  Flood,  but  he  has  a  soul  and  the  rest  of 
us  just  appetites." 

"Speak  for  yourself,"  said  Charles.  "Let  us  eat  and 
drink  for  to-morrow  we  may  have  to  go  down.  You  have 
been  reading  too  much  guide-book.  As  an  Englishman  T 
claim  the  right  to  do  as  I  please,  trusting  that  when  the 
time  comes  to  get  anything  done  I  can  pay  some  one  else 
to  do  it.  Oxford  to  me  means  flannels  and  a  sweater, 
not  cap  and  gown " 

"What  about  fancy  waistcoats?"  interrupted  Kelly. 

At  which  Charles  blushed  but  continued: 

"If  ever  I  come  back  to  a  Gaudy,  it  will  be  to  renew  old 
friendships,  not  to  see  old  stones.  We  belong  not  so  much 
to  a  University  as  to  the  House,  and  in  the  House  only  to 
a  Generation." 

One  group  of  buildings  however  did  appeal  to  Charles, 
and  that  was  Magdalen,  whose  beautiful  square  Gothic 
tower  sang  into  the  ravished  sky  its  unheard  melody.  The 
red  of  autumn  flushed  the  trees  when  he  had  seen  it  first 
from  the  Botanic  Gardens,  and  as  it  shone  so  delicately 
fair  in  the  bright  sun,  more  graceful  than  the  slender 
I^mbardy  poplar  beside  the  gate,  his  soul  trembled  with 
ecstasy.  Magdalen  Cloisters,  too,  with  the  brooding  Foun- 
der's Tower,  were  exquisitely  satisfying,  and  on  Friday 
afternoons  never  if  he  could  help  it  would  he  miss  the 


44 


DRUMS  AFAR 


service  sung  without  organ  by  a  perfect  choir.  Some  might 
have  said  that  he  was  prejudiced  and  mingled  his  affections 
with  the  memory  of  that  Magdalen  man,  Dean  Colet,  who 
had  founded  his  old  school,  St.  Paul's.  But  Charles  paid 
his  homage  to  this  great  building  without  the  aid  of  tra- 
dition. 

During  the  last  few  days  preceding  Torpids,  tempers 
were  beginning  to  acidulate.  The  odds  and  ends  of  con- 
versation had  been  used  up  at  training  breakfasts,  they  were 
swinging  badly  in  the  boat,  and  the  rumour  had  gone  round 
that  if  they  did  not  show  up  well  Christ  Church  III  would 
really  be  dropped  in  future.  Charles's  crew  was  all  on  its 
nerves,  and  if  a  better  showing  had  not  been  made  at  the 
trial  practices  prospects  would  indeed  have  been  black. 

One  spirit,  however,  breathed  through  them  all  They 
were  determined  to  do  their  damndest,  so  that  Teflfers  should 
not  lose  his  bet. 

"If  he  does,"  they  said  to  each  other,  "of  course  we'll 
pool  the  hundred.  He's  too  good  a  sort  for  us  to  let  him 
down  like  that." 

Thirteen  boats  rowed  in  the  Third  Division,  another 
melancholy  omen,  and  of  the  thirteen  Christ  Church  III 
stood  ninth.  Owing  to  the  narrow  river  these  were  bump- 
ing races,  all  the  competing  boats  starting  at  once  with  a 
pven  space  between.  The  races  opened  on  a  Thursday, 
lasting  till  the  following  Wednesday,  with  Sunday  as  an 
interval  of  rest. 

It  was  Charles's  first  boat  race,  and  as  the  shell  slipped 
down  the  river  to  the  allotted  place,  and  he  watched  the 
rise  and  fall  of  the  backs  in  front  of  him,  he  wondered 
what  they  would  do  to  him  if  he  should  catch  a  crab. 
l  robably  they  would  rag  his  rooms  and  burn  his  furniture 
—well,  that  would  not  be  much  loss,  but  it  would  be  a 
nasty  thing  to  live  down.  Worse  still,  Jeffers  would  have 
lost  his  bet  through  him.  The  thought  made  him  watch 
his  rowing  all  the  more  carefully. 

All  Oxford  seemed  to  be  trooping  down  the  towing-path 
towards  Iffley,  mostly  in  shorts,  though  some,  partici-.Iariy 


DRUMS  AFAR 


45 


clergymen,  were  in  ordinary  dress.  They  evidently  meant 
to  run  alongside,  and  of  course  House  men  were  much  in 
evidence. 

Jeffers  whispered  his  last  words  of  advice  to  his  men  as 
they  lay  alongside  the  bank,  then  they  stripped  and  a  pole 
pushed  them  out  far  enough  to  catch  water  with  their  oars. 
Jeffers,  stop-watch  in  his  hand,  counted  the  fleeting  seconds 

—ten— nine— eight— seven— six— five— four— three— two 

one— bang!— the  gun  gave  the  signal  as  their  oars  struck 
the  water,  and  they  were  off. 

Then  for  Charles  it  was  tear— tear— tear— with  hardly 
time  to  pant,  his  eyes  glued  to  the  necks  of  Four  and  Five, 
his  teeth  clenched  and  his  ears  singing  so  that  only  a  con- 
fused sound  came  from  the  bank  along  which  a  wild  horde 
ran,  whirling  rattles,  banging  gongs,  ringing  bells,  blowing 
whistles,  firing  pistols,  shouting  "Well  rowed  House!" 
Then  the  voice  of  Jeffers  through  a  well-aimed  megaphone 
caught  him,  "Head  up.  Three!"  and  he  answered  with  a 
jerk  of  the  chin.  There  must  have  been  a  bump  under 
the  Green  Bank,  for  two  boats  drifted  past  them.  Charles's 
throat  was  parched,  but  at  Long  Bridges  he  got  his  second 
wind,  just  as  they  swept  past  another  two  boats,  and  with 
a  leap  of  the  heart  knew  that  he  could  hold  out.  Queen's 
n  was  behind  them  at  a  safe  distance  and  there  was  a 
long  gap  behind  Queen's.  Keble  had  evidently  caught  St. 
Catherine's.  Coach  said  they  were  gaining  on  the  boat 
ahead. 

They  were  at  the  Barges  now— one  last  spurt,  and  then 
the  race  was  over.  They  had  not  made  a  bump,  but  they 
had  held  their  place. 

"Well  rowed,  all  of  you,"  came  through  the  megaphone. 
"You'll  go  ahead  to-morrow." 

In  the  Second  Division,  Christ  Church  H  had  better 
fortune,  moving  up  a  place,  but  it  was  not  till  the  First 
Division  races  that  Charies  and  Frank  recovered  wind 
enough  to  join  the  House  crowd  on  the  towing-path  and 
yell  for  the  boat  which  headed  the  furious  procession  up 
the  river.     Kelly  was  there  with  a  blunderbuss  in  each 


■I 


.    I 
'f    I 


I  li 


46 


DRUMS  AFAR 


hand  puffing  so  hard  that  Charles  was  afraid  he  would 
burst  his  lungs.  Even  the  Bullingdon  bloods  condescended 
to  carry  dinner-bells. 

To-morrow  came  with  a  hurricane  of  rain  and  wind 
almost  swamping  them  when  they  took  their  place  in  line 
at  the  starting  place.  It  was  impossible  to  do  any  fine 
rowmg  in  such  weather— the  wonder  was  they  could  keep 
afloat.  Drenched  to  the  skin  and  in  thoroughly  bad  tem- 
pers they  finished  the  course  in  the  same  position  as  when 
they  started. 

The  third  day's  race  was  just  as  disappointing.  A  fierce 
wmd  blew  down  and  across  the  river,  sweeping  waves 
over  their  bows,  and  gripping  their  oars. 

There  was  never  a  Sunday  in  the  history  of  England 
when  the  weather  was  responsible  for  more  bad  language 
than  this.  But  it  gave  them  a  rest,  and  they  still  had  three 
days  to  run. 

The  most  cheerful  man  of  them  all  was  Jeflfers. 

"This  was  just  the  way  I  wanted  it,"  he  said.  "It  would 
have  taken  all  the  gilt  oflF  the  gingerbread  if  you  had  won 
It  all  at  once.  I  believe  that  Isis  editor  has  already  spent 
half  the  money  in  anticipation,  and  he'll  be  all  the  sorrier 
for  himself  when  he  sees  you  romp  ahead.  All  you  have 
to  do  now  is  to  row  the  way  yor.  are  rowing,  and  pray 
for  better  weather.  You  pall  together  now,  you  have  a 
good  leg-dnve,  your  wrist  wrrk  -  the  best  in  your  Division 
perhaps  you  don  ^  keep  your  ^^  enou^i  on  the  boat— but 
the  only  thing  that  keeps  voe  bad;  is  tni.-  Hairy  Wnn  we 
chose  as  cox.  That  moustaoe  a  :ns  .,  too  heavy  on  one 
side — we  can't  keep  m  even  ksI 

Gilmore  gave  sicklv  grm.  hsr  -aid  nothing.  He  was 
as  much  disturoeii  as  am^  m:  iks!^  rm-  -e  had  his  heart  in 
the  boat  and  wouiii  ha:ve  in^-ei  airrtsn-  to  win.  Anything? 
Yes,  anything,  evfm  Tat    os^  and  rlomng  moustache   the 


-itfacTwise  hnvish  ^ 


ace. 


one  thing  that  gave  (s^mn 

On  Monday  at    reaklasT   Simore  was  late 

«r,"^°  ^"^  ^^^^  =ni  sp  -  said  F^ers  ava^eiv  to  the  scout 
Pour  his  bath  w.ser  rver  aim.' 


DRUMS  AFAR 


47 


In  a  few  minutes  the  scout  reappeared  with  the  message, 
"Coming  in  a  minute,    sir.      Mr.    Gilmore    says    he's 
shaving." 

"Shaving!  Good  God,  with  only  half  a  face  to  shave! 
I'll  teach  him  to  shave,"  muttered  the  coach  as  he  slashed 
at  his  bread. 

But  when  Gilmore  appeared,  a  shout  went  up  from  the 
whole  room.  His  moustache  was  gone!  He  had  taken 
Jeffers  literally  at  his  word. 

But  in  his  eyes  there  was  a  happy  look  which  held  back 
the  joking  comment  on  the  tip  of  everybody's  tongue. 
Jeflfers  was  the  only  one  to  say  anything. 

"By  Jove,  old  man,  you're  a  real  sport." 

"I  thought  I'd  give  you  fellows  an  excuse  to  keep  your 
eyes  on  the  boat,"  replied  the  Australian,  with  his  queer 
little  laugh. 

Somehow  or  other  a  new  enthusiasm  infected  the  crew 
from  the  thought  of  this  eccentric  action.  He  was  an  ass 
to  do  it,  of  course,  but  sporting  all  the  same.  If  Gilmore 
could  do  this,  surely  they  could  put  an  ounce  or  two  more 
into  every  stroke,  and  win  that  bet  for  Jeflfers.  Yes,  by 
Jove,  they  would! 

That  Monday  indeed  luck  seemed  to  have  turned. 

The  river  seemed  less  like  a  storm  at  sea. 

From  the  moment  the  gun  went  off  they  kept  their  heads, 
and  a  positive  tornado  of  delight  greeted  their  ears  when  at 
the  Crossing  they  realized  that  they  had  caught  Brasenose 
II,  the  boat  ahead.  All  the  tribulation  of  the  past  few  days 
was  now  forgotten,  and  in  magnificent  style,  after  they  had 
let  the  mad  racers  pass,  they  themselves  swept  up  to  receive 
their  just  ovation  at  the  Christ  Church  barge. 

Next  day  they  vanquished  Trinity  II  at  the  Long  Bridges, 
and  on  the  third  day  caught  Oriel  II  at  the  Red  Post,  and 
thus  had  three  triumphs  to  their  credit. 

Jeflfers  nearly  pumped  their  arms  oflF  when  he  met  them 
again  on  the  barge. 

"Hurry  up,  you  fellows,  and  come  along  to  my  rooms," 


48 


DRUMS  AFAR 


he  whispered  to  each  of  them,  nodding  towards  Gilmore. 
"We  must  have  a  presentation." 

They  changed  as  quickly  as  possible,  then  seized  Gilmore 
and  ran  him  shoulder  high  to  JeflFers'  rooms  in  Canterbury. 
Struggling  a  little  at  first,  the  Australian  soon  accepted  the 
situation  and  with  a  pleased  smile  entered  the  gate  at 
Meadows  waving  the  cap  of  a  conquering  hero.  Through 
the  quadrangles  they  rushed  cheering  till  they  deposited  him 
on  the  table  of  Jeffers'  front  room,  where  they  joined  hands 
and  danced  round  him  till  the  ornaments  began  to  fall. 

Then  the  coach  called  for  quiet  and  produced  a  gold 
case  on  which  was  the  inscription, 

"To  A.  S.  Gilmore, 
Cynosure  of  Christ  Church  III." 

Gilmore  received  the  case  with  beaming  face.  He 
chuckled  again  and  again  as  he  read  the  inscription,  un- 
consciously feeling  for  the  moustache  that  was  no  more. 

"Open  it,"  said  Jeffers.    "There's  something  inside." 

Touching  a  spring,  Gilmore  revealed  a  bottle  which  amid 
shouts  of  laughter  they  recognized  as  Hair  Restorer. 

"That's  a  good  one,"  said  the  Australian,  in  excellent 
humour.    "I'll  be  able  to  beat  the  Kaiser  with  this." 

Christ  Church  II  had  gone  up  four  places,  and  Christ 
Giurch  I  was  still  head  of  the  river,  so  the  House  gave 
it-^elf  up  that  night  to  celebrations.  It  was  a  triumph 
w  jrthy  of  wine,  nut  beer  or  vulgar  whisky. 

After  such  rigid  training  virtuous  indeed  was  the  soul 
that  could  resist  the  call  to  Bacchus.  Charies  and  Frank 
were  neither  of  them  paragons,  and  so  in  each  other's  com- 
pany succumbed  to  the  too  frequent  toasts,  waking  next 
morning  about  noon  with  headaches  lightened  by  the  joy 
of  knowing  they  had  helped  to  maintain  the  glory  of  the 
House. 

The  strain  and  excitement  of  the  races  had  beei:  severe, 
but  Oxford  quickly  passes  from  one  phase  to  another,  and 
soon  both  Charles  and  Frank  found  football  calling  them 


DRUMS  AFAR 


49 


three  times  a  week.  This  kept  them  well,  and  kept  them  in 
a  good,  healthy  set.  Charles  never  was  more  healthy  or 
more  happy,  the  only  cloud  upon  his  horizon  being  the 
thought  that  term  must  end  and  he  must  go  back  to  the 
family  refrigerator  at  Richmond.  Great  therefore  was  his 
relief  when  after  displaying  a  reassuring  knowledge  of 
Scripture  in  the  Examination  known  as  "Divinners,"  Frank 
came  to  the  rescue  with  an  invitation  to  spend  the  Easter 
Vacation  reading  with  him  in  the  more  democratic  suburb 
of  Bedford  Park. 


if 


CHAPTER  IV 

FRANK  MAINWARING  was  the  son  of  an  artist 
who  belonged  to  a  school  no  longer  in  fashion. 
Formed    under   the    inspiration   of    Ford    Madox 

wh«,  .u"^-  '".**'*'  °'''*^'^  ""^  *^<^  '^st  century  at  a  time 
when  the  sp,nt  of  revolution  was  in  the  air.  it  h"d  preachTd 
Ae  study  of  nature  instead  of  convention  and  had  included 
among  ,  s  early  adherents  Rossetti.  Millais  and  Holman 

th^Li  T  ^""^  ""^'^  decorative  development  drew  into 
«.e  field  such  men  as  Bume-Jones.  William  Morris  and 

^^iZ    ?"''  ^"'  J^*"/'  Mainwaring  painted  in  the  earlier 
method  of  precise  and  meticulous  rendering  of  a  legend 
he  figures  m  which  were  drawn  from  actual  persons^: 

u;i  ^°5*""^ed  in  one  strong  definite  light 
«t!w*!I  T^  !Sr?'-^!^p^c  colony  of   Bedford   Park  was 
established  ,n  Chiswick  by  certain  kindred  spirits,  he  tik 
one  of  Norman    Shaw's    red-brick    white    windiw-siU^d 

account  of  the  excellent  studio.  It  certainly  was  a  charm- 
ing suburb,  with  winding  streets  in  which  a  tree  was  c^- 

A  row  of*'l""^r.'°'^  *,°  '^  "-^"^^^^^  ^^»  -  P-venTt. 
A  row  of  Lombardy  poplars  too  sacred  to  touch  stood 
sentinel  bes.de  the  Green,  on  which  the  offspring  o  the 
nejghbourhood  flew  kites  or  planned  mischief 

traced  Mr'  M  "  ^''''^'' }''}'''  Mrs.  Mainwaring  had  at- 
tracted  Mr  Mainwaring  m  her  young  days  by  her  bright 
manner  and  sympathetic  interest  in  fhe  movemen  whkh 
was  bringing  new  life  and  beauty  into  English  domestra  t 
intereTt"anTh'"lT'  °^u'  ^^"''^  ^^<*  ^-^-P^d  that 
very  lar  from  the  ideal  he  had  pictured  when  «=he  fir^t 
captured  his  affections.  He  was  however  too  loyal  even  to 
remonstrate,  and  took  her  change  as  part  of  the  same  sad 

50 


DRUMS  AFAR  ^^ 

circumstance  which  had  transformed  the  old-world  villa^s 
soTStX'r'T  T.  ^^°:r^^^  jerrybuilt  suburbs  T 
end^m^t       ^"^^^^  '^  '^'^'^  P'^^^^™  «^  ^°^  to  make 

had'blen^\r'v°-'''''''"''^  "'  ^"  ^"^"^  W'»'^«  Morris 
«  K  ";«"'  M»^-  Mamwanng  was  an  ardent  reformer   and 
as  he  stood  at  his  easel,  with  his  grey  hair  and  beaS  wear 
ing  a  faded  blue  smock,  the  very^  picture  of  an  oM  Chartist 
he  discoursed  in  his  gentle  voice  on  the  utter  da^aS 
of  kmgs  and  the  humbling  of  the  House  of  S     A 
sociable  fellow,  he  liked  to  work  in  company,  and  if  Mrs 
Mamwarmg  herself  was  too  busy  called  in  his 'son.  or  Viola 
his  daughter,  or  Charles,  so  that  he  might  have  aroind 

hZt  ^"T  'r ?^^  "•^^°"*  ^h'^h  he  could  not 
^heoM  ^^' u'  \"***^^  ^^^"^«  ^^'T  soon  a  favourite  wUh 
the  old  man  who  loved  to  hear  him  sing  the  old  folk  s^nes 
aught  h.m  by  Hargrove.    Viola  played  the  accompaLen^^^ 

zZn':;^T:;::^,^r  ^^^^ ''--  ^^-  ^^^ 

vea^r  h.!f  ^'"'^^i'"^  "^^^  ^  y°""8^  '^^y'  ^J^ose  a?e  for  some 

^«  and  „u,er  such  objects  of  60^" art'^lhe 't^ 
b«n  through  a  course  of  book-binding  with  Douglas  CodT 

TZm  oTSh  '°  '^t'^"  "'  *«  'wenti'eft'e^tu,; 

ha^;o^io^Ht:fTrr.te-  'si.r,Vd  "r '?- 

first  came  into  the  room  he  was  ov.    nmfifj'.t      ^^  ''" 
able  nervousness  which  ha';:d"hrusuTre'''d;'':A"r"s'S; 


I 


52 


DRUMS  AFAR 


brought  with  her  a  faint,  indefinable  yet  distinct  fragrance, 
her  delicate  hands  were  in  themselves  a  delight  to  look  upon 
as  she  arranged  the  flowers  with  which  the  room  was  bright- 
ened, or  at  mealtime  daintily  carried  a  fork  to  her  mouth, 
or  pushed  back  the  wisps  of  curling  hair  which  would  not 
be  pinned  or  controlled  but  kept  straying  wilfully  into  her 
eyes. 

If  he  had  known  more  of  the  sex,  he  would  have  realized 
that  there  was  a  certain  art  in  her  artlessness,  that  she  was 
interested  in  her  brother's  friend  and  desired  to  make  an 
impression,  that  she  lingered  a  little  longer  in  the  sunlight 
streaming  through  the  baywindow  and  making  an  irri- 
descent  halo  of  her  thick  hair  tl  an  was  absolutely  necessary 
to  water  the  plants.  She  knew  the  effect  that  the  rustle 
of  a  silk  petticoat  and  the  chink  of  an  old-fashioned  chate- 
laine must  have  upon  impressionable  youth,  and  while  as- 
suming the  air  of  an  earnest  ingenue  was  too  much  of  a 
woman  to  pass  by  the  chance  of  having  this  good-looking, 
healthy,  well  set-up  young  Oxford  man  at  any  time  if  need 
be  at  her  beck  and  call. 

Her  voice  was  musical,  with  a  quality  of  husky  warmth 
which  was  the  despair  and  admiration  of  her  teacher  of 
voice  production. 

The  conversation  at  table  frequently  turned  on  matters 
of  art,  and  when  she  spoke  on  such  a  subject  it  was  with 
thrilling  intensity— so  different  from  the  snippety,  gossip- 
ing small  talk  of  Charles's  own  sisters.  Viola  seemed  to 
see  only  the  beautiful  in  the  pictures  that  were  discussed, 
and  the  fine  points  in  the  artist  whom  Frank  was  inclined 
to  criticize.  Frank  indeed  at  times  seemed  to  suggest  the 
decadent,  whereas  Viola,  with  her  squarer  yet  softer  face, 
had  a  saner,  sturdier  attitude  to  life  which  made  her  con- 
versation wonderfully  sympathetic. 

Of  course  they  went  to  see  the  Boatrace.  There  was  a 
House  man  in  the  Oxford  crew,  and  it  would  have  been 
disloyal  to  have  leen  within  thirty  miles  of  London  and  not 
have  gone.  They  could  have  witnessed  the  race  from 
Thcrnycroft's,  but  Frank  voted  for  the  Surrey  side  so  that 


DRUMS  AFAR 


S3 


they  could  see  more  of  the  crowd.  And.  as  Kelly  would 
have  said.  ,t  was  some  crowd.  Although  they  left  Se  hou  e 
waraLaTv  ^T.""'";!  *'^  ''^^'  Hammersmith  Bridge 

tTen  un  nLft'  "*  ^''^  ^  ""'*  ''^'•^"^  °^  *h°««  who  had 
taken  up  positions  so  as  to  see  the  boats  pass  underneath 

and^therewith  forced  the  others  to  take  thTmiddk  of  tL'e 
"Sign  that  it's  going  to  be  a  walk-over."  said  Frank 
re?ch  trbridge^'^^'^^'^  ^  ''''''  '^  ^'^  *-  ^^^  Sats 

"^X^L:^.:-r^^^^^-'     -^^  Viola. 
They  settled  on  a  barge  within  sight  of  Barnes  Bridge 
Near  them  a  n^ger  minstrel  beguiled  the  waiting  i^nutes 

welled  iill  ItJIZ^  °"  '5'  towing-path  swayed  and 
swelled  till  It  was  three  or  four  deep,  all  in  line  for  the 
boats  to  appear.  So  great  was  the  hubbub  tha  one  could 
th;?oic:rdtVr"  ^!i^" -^^-'^  ^y  -  sort  of  Ltinct 
towaX^^^^^^^^     '"^^'  ^"'  "^''^  ^-  ^*--"g  ol  necks 

nf'P^^-'"*'  °^-7,  ^V^  '"""^  °"«'  ^"<i  sure  enough  the  roa  • 
of  cheering  swelled  as  the  boats  came  up  stream 

Oxford's  leading!"    "Well  rowed  Oxford P    "Oxford 

for  ever !  'rose  into  a  confused  thunder  as  it  was  seen  that 

Bourne  had  stroked  his  boat  well  ahead.    Chrries  was  ex 

cited  and  proud,  yet  found  almost  as  much  interes7?n  th." 

Zri  ^^^'  ''''•  "«  -^■<^^^  that  ^en^gg^rl^nsu^ 
who  had  hitherto  shown  no  favours  was  tying  flarTflw 
of  dark  blue  Oxford  colours  round  his  neck^  No  doubt  h 
paid  to  ^  on  the  winning  side.  \  iola  was  wiW^y  wav  nJ 
her  scarf,  and  must  have  forgotten  for  the  moLnt  7e? 

looked  tw'fe  a;  her  "  ""  "°^  *'^  °"'>'  •"-  -^° 

^^iprtwew^^^^^^^ 

Barnes  Bridge  confirmed  the  victory,  and  with  one  last 


■2 


54 


DRUMS  AFAR 


m 


cheer  the  crowd  broke  up  and  pushed  for  home.    Viola 
was  as  happy  as  if  she  had  won  the  race  herself. 
"I  am  so  glad,"  she  said,  "I  do  love  Oxford  so." 
"Yes,"  said  Charles.    "It  has  the  prettier  colours." 
"Don't  be  silly— it  isn't  that— and  it  isn't  simply  because 
Frank  is  there.    But  there's  something  about  Oxford  which 
Cambridge  has  not  got— more  romance,  more  poetry,  more 
beauty." 

Frank  Mainwaring  himself  had  never  gone  through  any 
formal  training  at  an  art  school,  but  in  such  an  atmosphere 
It  would  have  been  strange  if  he  had  shown  no  artistic 
sympathies.    Caricature  was  the  form  in  which  his  art  took 
shape.    He  had  the  happy  knack  of  catching  the  facial  like- 
ness, the  attitude  and  the  obvious  character  of  any  one  he 
drew,  and  had  the  gift,  moreover,  of  being  able  to  draw 
as  well  from  memory  as  in  the  victim's  presence.    Artistic 
temperament  indeed  threatened  his  chances  of  a  good 
degree.    He  was  more  busy  with  his  pencil  than  his  books, 
and  Charles,  who  was  himself  no  smug,  soon  found  himself 
just  as  well  informed  as  this  possessor  of  a  scholarship. 
When  It  came  to  taste  in  pictures,  Frank  was  all  for  Wilson 
Steer  and  Clausen  and  the  painters  who  painted  light  not 
subjects,  and  took  his  friend  to  galleries  which  would  have 
laughed  at  his  father's  pictures.    But  like  his  father,  he 
believed  in  Philip  Snowden  and  Sidney  Webb,  introducing 
Charles  to  meetings  of  the  Fabian  Society  and  to  the  labour 
movement.    A  pleasant  walk  near  Bedford  Park  led  to  the 
comer  on  the  Hammersmith  Mall  near  Kelmscott  House 
where  William  Morris  used  to  hold  forth.    Old  Mr.  Main- 
waring  in  his  broad-brimmed  hat  loved  nothing  better  than 
to  point  out  where  the  poet  in  dark  blue  suit  and  soft  blue 
collar  and  tie  had  preached  his  gospel  to  the  working-men 
of  Hammersmith,  waving  a  hand  at  what  he  likened  to  the 
bridge  of  freedom  over  the  river  of  despair. 

It  would  have  been  also  strange  if  the  daughter  of  old 
Mr.  Mamwaring  had  not  been  in  sympathy  with  advanced 
pohtical  views.    She  sold  copies  of  The  Common  Cause 


DRUMS  AFAR  55 

at  the  comer  of  the  Bath  Road,  wearing  the  picture  hat 
which  least  accentuated  her  unfortunate  profile 
Although  he  had  lived  in  the  same  house  as  two  good- 

Serto'en^en  '"'H  ""'^  '^  ^'^  ^^'"^'"^-'  Charlefhad 
lair  sex  It  had  always  been  a  cat  and  dog  life  in  the 
Rtzmorns  family,  the  sisters  in  his  short  frou^r  days 
wantmg  hun  to  be  neat  and  tidy  when  he  preferrefto  pLC 
m  the  mud  and  go  to  bed  unwashed.  Then  when  he  was 
of  more  mature  school  age,  he  had  a  contempt  for  the  ^rs 

talk  andltrn'*°'''  ^^"'!  "'"^'^  ^^^  ^^^^y^^'  their  vapid 
talk  and  patronizmg  attitude  towards  himself.  Of  course 
he  had  realized  from  the  books  he  read  that  men  did  f aU 
m  love  with  women,  but  all  that  had  seemed  on  Z  far 
honzon  so  far  as  he  was  concerned.    Once  or  twice  he 

t^T^  'rC-^  '°  "'^^  '^'  acquaintance  of  some  par- 
son nLf'"^^  actress  especially  Edith  Wynne  Matthi- 
son  of  whom  he  went  the  length  of  buying  picture  pos  - 
cards  and  with  whom  he  thought  out  imagiLVy  Tonverst 

He  ±^"?.V  ^r^^^°"  °^  souls  andTmmortalty 
m  the  moonlig^it,  but  then  some  one  told  him  she  was 
already  married  and  that  actresses  were  too  high-strlg 
to  live  widi  for  more  than  a  week  at  a  time  and  That  3 
one  was  thirty  the  most  comfortable  way  of  living  was  o 
take  a  flat  and  have  one's  meals  at  the  club 

him  ttT  v"'''  '"  -^^  '^'"P*"^  °^  ^'°^^'  h«^«^«'-.  showed 
him  tha  his  own  sisters  were  not  the  only  type  of  female 

W  Vf"''^'°"'^  ^  affectionate  to  her  brXr.  couM  be 
fond  of  good  music,  could  take  an  intelligent  interest  in 
things  and  be  altogether  human. 
Mr.  Mainwaring  was  subject  to  rheumatism  on  damn 

th^;  T'^T  'ri  "'  ^^  ""^^  •"  London  that  mean^rougWy 
^ree  hundred  days  out  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
Oiarles  who  did  his  reading  in  the  studio  in  a  cor^eTne^; 
the  stove  found  himself  therefore  on  rainy  days  once  or 
twice  alone  with  Viola.  Put  a  young  Oxford  unders^aduate 
on  vacation  at  a  distance  of  twelve  to  fifteen  pa^rom 


i 


56 


DRUMS  AFAR 


an  attractive  girl,  with  nobody  else  in  sight,  and  the  chances 
are  seven  hundred  billion  and  thirty-two  to  one  that  he 
inclines  to  grow  sentimental.  She  may  be  absorbed  in  the 
design  of  a  perfectly  wonderful  wall-paper,  but  his  thoughts 
turn  to  the  problem  of  whether  or  not  she  can  become 
absorbed  in  the  less  decorative  but  more  vital  him.  Hold 
before  h.m  the  most  learned,  the  most  scholarly,  the  most 
mcontrovertible  tome  written  in  French,  German,  English 
or  Esperanto,  and  he  will  read  the  pages  line  by  line  without 
remembering  a  single  word,  the  only  line  in  his  thoughts 
being  the  line  which  might  possibly  lead  from  her  heart 
to  nis. 

As  Charles  sat  thus  one  torrential  afternoon  before  the 
end  of  the  vacation,  tilting  his  chair  at  such  an  angle  that 
he  couW  see  the  glint  of  her  hair  over  Voltaire's  Steele  de 
Louts  Qmtorse,  he  realized  how  utterly  inexperienced  he 
was  in  the  art  of  approaching  the  Delectable  Fair.  After 
half  an  hour  s  deliberation  on  this  point,  Viola  suddenly 
let  down  the  drawbridge. 

''Penny  for  your  thoughts,"  she  said. 

"Make  it  twopence,  and  you  are  welcome  " 

"Mercenary  youth!  Very  well,  split  the  difference^ 
three  halfpence.' 

"I  was  wondering,"  said  Charles,  "whether  it  would  ever 
be  possible  for  a  girl  like  you  to  be  attracted  by  a  fellow 
like  me.  ^        wi^w 

"Charles  Fitzmorris!"  she  exclaimed,  turning  round  with 
a  gesture  so  startled  that  her  easel  and  tumbler  and  water 
colours  fell  with  a  crash  to  the  ground.  "Whatever  do  you 
mean?  ^ 

"Oh  merely  in  the  abstract,"  he  said  confusedly,  gointr 
forward  to  pick  up  the  debris.  "I  didn't  say  'you'  and  'me  ' 
but  a  girl  like  you'  and  'a  fellow  like  me.'  " 

"Oh,  you  did,  did  you  ?" 

She  watched  him  replace  her  things,  then  go  back  to  his 
chair  and  hght  a  cigarette.  With  a  touch  of  humour  she 
herself  whistled  a  few  bars  of  Chopin's  Funeral  March. 
Then  she  continued  deliberately. 


DRUMS  AFAR  57 

"The  usual  thing  for  a  girl  to  say  to  a  man  under  such 
circumstances  is  that  she  will  be  a  sister  to  him.  Honestly 
I  feel  more  like  saying  that  a  girl  like  me  would  be  a  mother 

ZL  r  i,  ^''"-  ?^^  ^°"'^  ^^^*  "°t  th^ee  but  thirty 
years  older  than  one  who  is  still  little  more  than  a  school- 

^^IrTL^  Tu-  '^^°°'boy'  but  without  any  character  or 
mdividuality  of  his  own.  Even  when  you  are  finished  with 
Oxford  you  wil  just  be  beginning.  I  am  perfectly  happy 
as  I  am  and  don't  believe  I  shall  ever  be  married,  but  if  I  do 

irl  j°  ^  r"  "f^-  ^''  ^°"S^^*  ^°^  recognition  and 
won  it-independent  of  his  parents  and  able  to  stand  in  the 
world  without  anybody's  help.  I  am  trying  to  earn  mv 
own  hving  myself.  How  could  I  possibly  respect  a  man 
sufficiently  to  hve  with  him  if  our  income  depended  on  an 
allowance  from  his  parents  ?" 
"That,"  said  Charles,  "seems  rather  more  like  marrying 

attr^TfenT"  '"  f  ,r"'  ^^^*  ^  ^^"°^  «ke  me  feel! 
attracted  by  in  a  girl  like  you  is  the  voice,  the  face,  the  hair 
the  distinction  of  dress,  not  the  brain  or'the  ability  to  ea  ^' 
an  income.    But  that,  I  suppose,  is  a  schoolboy's  notion  of 

.  "Don't  put  it  like  that,"  she  said.  "Can't  you  see  that 
independence  is  merely  the  outward  sign  of  charac  r,  and 
^  you  want  to  live  day  in  and  day  out  with  any  one  you 
must  have  more  than  physical  affection  ?" 

No  I  am  too  young  to  see  life  in  that  way,"  he  replied. 

said  "DoT  '''  *°C  ^°""^  '"^  '^'"'^  °^  marriage,''  she 
said.      Do  let  me  make  you  some  toffee." 

If  I  had  more  experience,"  he  began,  wincing  under 

Jra^ci^j^tt- 

aT^u""'   u""-   ^"'^  '^'  ^'''^'  -'^h  water  from  the  tap 
As  she  brought  it  over  to  the  stove,  Charles  said  •  ^' 

1  wish  you  would  come  to  Oxford  for  Eights  Week 
I  want  to  introduce  you  to  an  American  friend.  I'd  like  to 
near  you  two  argue." 


i 


58 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I  m  willing  to  argue  with  any  man,"  said  Viola   who 
seemed  suddenly  to  remember  that  she  was  a  suffragist 
"who  thinks  the  place  for  woman  is  the  home." 

"That's  not  Kelly's  view,"  said  Charles.    "He  says  the 
place  for  woman  is  the  beauty  parlour." 

"Su^.T"'^^^  ^"  expression!"  said  Mrs.  Mainwaring. 
Oh,  It's  just  American  for  the  shop  of  a  complexion 
specialist,"  explained  Viola,  "Mrs.  Pomeroy  and  that  sort 
of  a  thing,  I  know  it— we  get  the  Ladies'  Home  Journal 
at  the  Qub." 

"So  you  belong  to  a  Qub,"  said  Charles. 

"My  dear  Fitz,"  said  Frank,  "the  Bath  Road  is  strewn 
with  the  latch-keys  that  Viola  loses." 

"Tell  me  more  about  that  Kelly  person,"  demanded  that 
young  lady  of  Charles. 

"He  says  he  is  looking  for  an  English  rose— healthy, 
fresh  and  innocent." 

"Those  Americans  want  the  whole  earth,"  said  Viola 
impatiently,  "and  this  one  seems  worse  than  usual.  Does 
he  really  think  he  can  make  an  English  girl  forgive  his 
accent  ?" 

"He's  rich  enough  to  make  the  mouth  of  the  average  eirl 
water,"  replied  Charles.  ^ 

Viola  sniffed. 

"If  this  American  looks  for  a  tame  rose  for  his  button- 
hole, let  him  buy  a  German." 

"Frau  Karl  Druschki  is  my  own  favourite  variety,"  said 
Mrs.  Mainwaring  innocently,  and  could  not  understand 
why  the  others  laughed. 

"What's  the  game?"  asked  Frank  of  Charies  when  they 
were  alone.  "Do  you  want  to  make  a  match  between  Kelly 
and  Viola  ?"  "^ 

"Do  you  object?" 

"On  the  contrary,  go  ahead !  I  think  he  would  do  her 
good,  and  it's  time  we  got  her  off  our  hands.  But  don't 
say  anything  of  this  to  mother.  She  considers  matchmaking 
her  pet  preserve." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  first  days  of  a  new  term  are  largely  consumed 
in  comparing  notes.  Charles  found  that  many  of 
the  men  of  his  year  had  spent  Easter  travelling  on 
the  Continent.  Jenkins,  who  had  rowed  seven  in 
the  same  boat  in  Torpids,  had  gone  with  a  reading  party 
of  other  classical  scholars  as  far  as  Greece,  Hargrove  had 
been  studying  the  great  cathedrals  of  Northern  France, 
while  Grant,  the  Canadian,  had  found  time  to  visit  his 
family  at  Ottawa. 

These  tales  of  travel  suggested  lost  opportunities.  There 
was  some  sense  after  all  in  long-drawn-out  vacations,  if 
they  gave  a  man  a  chance  to  see  the  world. 

Frank  Mainwaring  agreed  on  Germany  for  the  Long  Va- 
cation. An  Anglo-German  Association  in  Oxford  gave 
advice  to  men  wishing  to  visit  or  know  more  about  the 
Fatherland.  Here  they  borrowed  a  translation  of  Heine's 
Harzreise."  and  remembering  George  Canning's  rhyme 
about  the 

U- 
niversity  of  Gottingen 

decided  on  that  Georgian  Augustan  seat  of  learning,  where 
the  pronunciation  was  said  to  be  the  purest  and  Englishmen 
were  traditionally  welcome. 

Kelly  said  that  instead  of  going  to  the  Continent  they 
should  study  their  own  country. 

"These  are  the  most  wonderful  little  islands  in  the 
world,  he  said.  "I  spent  last  Easter  automobiling,  and  I 
wish  It  had  been  a  year.  You  pass  from  one  county  into 
H?ffl  /.;  find  separate  races,  talking  languages  so 
differen  they  don't  understand  each  other  swear  Each 
little  village  is  in  a  groove  over  which  time  passes  without 

59 


Go 


I"  '% 


DRUMS  -\FAR 


heir  knowing  ,t.    Why,  i  supposed  I  was  Irish  till  I  went 

ThPvlf  "^  ^"^^^  '"  '^^  Y"'^''  ^^^^^  "^y  ^""stors  belong. 
They  had  no  more  use  for  me  than  for  the  devil.     I  was 

Thlrpt  f       't  •  f^''^  '■.'°"^^*  "^^  ^"  emigration  agent, 
father.''  ''"'""''  ^'*^'""  "^"  ""^  "^^  S*-'"^- 

T  -7°"  ,?^^''  ^'  '^  y°"  "^^'^  piqued."  said  Charles.    "Some 
Insh  colleen  must  have  jilted  you.     Never  mind,  if  you 

in"oetZ  rT''^^''  *'!!  ^^^''  ^^^'^'  I'^^  ^°^  ^^'"etWng 

Chicaga"  ^°"      ^'  """^  '""^  >^°"  ^"^^  ^^PPy  to 

In  the  meanwhile  spring  crept  on  apace.     Before  the 

ms.dious  charm  of  green  leaves  and  flowery  meadows  and 

haStn!  \  ^  ^  "l^^'i  '^l  ^''°^'  prescribed  for  Schools 
had  httle  chance.  Neither  Frank  nor  Charles  had  any  hope 
of  getting  into  either  of  the  Eights,  so  they  decided  that 
their  "ecker"  should  be  golf  and  tennis. 

f^f/  ^"*^  ^^^'^^^  ^^''''^^  ^  P""*  ^^^'•e  they  found  ample 
food  for  conversation  in  discussing  each  other's  institutions 
Ever  since  they  had  met.  Kelly  had  never  ceased  to  impress' 

and  SiV''  Tf't'  '*"^"^y  °^  ^^^'^thing  AmeS 
rni.H?h  *.  °^  '^?^'"  *^"^^«dness  decried  it.    He  ridi- 

^n^i  ?*  "^ap^me  articles  which  Kelly  made  him  read  on 
Wn^  P  f  ^"d  lightning-quick  business  men  who  had 
become  Presidents  of  billion-dollar  corporations  before  the'r 
w'?'.^'"'^- ,  "'  ?°""^^  ^t  Kelly's  favourite  short-story 
nt:  Tl  ^l^f -shaven  salesmen  who  made  spectacular 
deals  and  who  after  skipping  sixty  intervening  pages  some- 
where  among  the  advertisements  decided  fo  mar^  X 
daughters  of  the  rivals  whose  business  they  had  smasKd 
toll.  ?""  h«y°es  bore  me  to  extinction."  said  Charies.  "They 
talk  shop  al    the  time,  even  when  they  are  sitting  in  the 

iingland  and  the  Continent  are  overrun  with  American 
women  who  have  left  thoir  husbands  at  home.    The  wonder 

L  h'f  "'''■"'^,  ^^'"^  "'  ^"-    Your  millionaires  seem 

too  busy  even  to  make  friends." 

Charies,  on  the  other  hand,  roused  Kelly's  sarcasm  by 


DRUMS  AFAR  gi 

declining  either  to  stay  up  all  night  or  rise  early  enough  to 

on^hftL    /T.   ^i"r  °!;^^^"y  ^^^'•"'"Sr  sung  by  the  choir 
on  the  top  of  Magdalen  Tower. 

"No  five  a.m.  for  me,"  said  Charles.  "We  keep  up  pagan 
ceremonies  for  our  visiting  Colonials  and  Americans.  But 
that  does  not  mean  that  we  have  to  go  ourselves.  If  I  could 
cou  .t  ,t  as  a  Chapel,  I  might  go,  but  not  unless.  Besides, 
It  IS  sure  to  ram." 

KeHy  was  vastly  excited  over  the  expected  visit  of  Theo- 
dore Roosevelt  to  Oxford. 

rnu^^l'  *^\*yPi^f^  American."  said  Charies.  "trotting 
round  the  globe  with  ready  citicisms  which  distract  atten- 
tion from  the  shortcomings  of  your  own  United  Stites 
Not  that  we  object.  If  Roosevelt  only  were  to  give  his 
Romanes  lecture  at  five  o'clock  on  May  Morning  on  Mag- 
dalen Tower  instead  of  that  Latin  hymn,  ail  Oxford  would 

fhl?  K  T  r-  ^"^^^^"^  ^'^^^  "^  g^^ater  pleasure 
than  to  be  wakened  up  to  our  weak  points.  We  go  to  sleep 
expressly  for  the  purpose."  5    t    »  ccp 

Thus  they  whiled  away  the  afternoons  under  the  willows 
on  the  Cher,  chaffing  each  other  and  blowing  cigarette  rines 
and  watching  the  parade  of  paddling  or  punting  youth. 
When  they  felt  more  energetic,  they  explored  the  back- 
waters quiet  streams  through  mossy  woods  and  meadows 
starred  with  daisies. 
Summer  hats  and  gowns  appeared  on  the  Broad  Walk 
Your  time  is  coming  now.  Kell,"  said  Charies.  "Steel" 
your  heart  against  too  easy  capture.  A  pink  cheek  may 
conceal  a  suflFragette."  ^ 

"Why  not?"  replied  the  American.  "Believe  me,  my 
stenographer  m  Chicago  is  just  as  good  a  lawyer  as  I  am 
and  if  r.he  wants  to  vote  she's  welcome.  My  own  mother 
IS  a  practising  attorney  earning  ten  thousand  dollars  a 
year.  You  folks  here  need  women  to  run  things  for  you 
more  than  you  think.     A  woman  housekeener  would  he 

!rf frigh" V" '"  "^^ "°"''-  ^^'  ^"'^^  ""^  ^'^^'  h^-« 

Then  one  morning  at  about  seven  the  world  was  wakened 


mmm 


63 


DRUMS  AFAR 


by  the  tolling  of  Great  Tom.    Silas  opened  the  door  just  as 
Charles  slipped  out  of  bed. 

"What's  the  matter,  Silas  ?" 

''The  King  is  dead,  Sir,"  said  the  old  man  huskily. 
Dead! 

Of  course  the  King  was  known  to  be  ill,  but  no  one  had 
expected  anything  so  sudden.  Charles  had  never  taken 
m\ich  mterest  in  Royalty,  but  he  was  shocked  by  the  news 

At  first  It  was  thought  that  all  sports  would  be  stopped, 
but  other  counsels  prevailed.  Eights  Week  was  not  can- 
celled but  postponed  till  after  the  great  funeral.  Roose- 
velt had  to  keep  quiet  for  three  weeks.  Charles  however 
was  saved  from  an  impending  visit  from  his  family. 

Memorial  services  on  the  day  of  the  funeral  made 
Oxford  a  city  of  mourning,  but  on  the  following  Tuesday 
the  fanfare  of  the  trumpeters  heralded  i  r  le  roi  For  the 
rest  of  the  week,  gaiety  was  certainly  subdued,  but  youth 
is  hard  to  suppress. 

"People,"  otherwise  the  sisters,  mothers,  fathers,  cousins, 
second  cousins,  uncles  and  maiden  aunts  of  the  lucky  or 
unlucky  undergraduates  were  less  in  evidence  than  usual 
at  Eights  Week.  Many  like  the  Fitzmorrises  decided  not 
to  come. 

The  Mainwarings,  however,  arrived,  frankly  unaffected. 

Ihe  best  thing  about  the  whole  funeral,"  said  Mr  Main- 

wanng,  "is  that  the  Timet  was  forced  to  employ  artists, 

and  to  illustrate  as  well  as  to  describe  the  ceremonies.    It 

S  uare^*  °^  *  ""'"^  ***  "^^^  "^  Printing  House 

On  the  first  day  of  their  visit,  Charles  had  arranged 
luncheon  for  the  party  at  his  rooms,  and  loaded  every  avail- 
able vase  with  flowers.  There  were  six  persons  to  provide 
tor,  but  he  had  food  for  a  dozen,  and  Silas,  who  saw  at 
last  a  reasonable  perquisite,  smiled  and  brought  out  his 
own  silver  coffee  service  lent  as  a  rule  only  to  ground-floor 
men. 

"How  do  you  like  my  rooms?" 

"Charming,"  said   Viola,  looking  at  the  flowers;  then 


DRUMS  AFAR 


63 


i 

a 


ca^ng  a  critical  eye  at  the  wall-paper.  "You  must  let  me 
tori^^"     ^^    ^"^  more  virile.     This  is  too  Early  Vic- 

"Kelly."  said  Charles,  "thinks  that  design  of  any  kind 
upon  a  wall  covering  is  barbaric  " 

tu^ldrfa^e'ht'^"'^  "''"'  *'^  ^™^"^^"'  «"^^^^  -^ 

UniteSrs/^"  ""^'  ^'  ^'''  ^'^*''"^"  -^  -  ^« 

ton^ul'^'n^''^""'  *""'  T  ""  *°  horse-hair  rather  than 
to  plush.  Our  favourite  decorations  were  samplers  worked 
with  mottoes  such  as  'What  is  home  without  a  mother/  and 
memorial  portraits  with  obituary  poems  reading: 

'So  we  come, 

And  so  we  go. 
But  where  we  go  to 

I  don't  know.' 

In  one  comer  of  the  room  was  a  what-not " 

"What  is  a  what-not.?"  interrupted  Viola 

'One  definition  is  that  it  is  a  small  table  with  shelves 

ofS?^i^r  "^'"^^  r^'^^  "°  °"*  ^^'  h*d  the  presence 
of  mind  to  destroy-seashells.  and  coral,  and  pampas  grass." 

pa    rs  ?••         "         *^  *°  ^^'**  ^°"  '*'°"^^  "'*^*«  ^*"- 

T  fi  ^?  *''^?'^'"  P™*«*«<J  Kelly.  "It's  all  nerves  with  me. 
I  hnd  less  chance  of  nightmare  in  a  room  without  a  pattern 
Ihere  s  more  rest  m  simple  spaces  of  tone  and  light." 

And  yet,  said  Viola,  "we  are  told  that  you  Americans 
surround  yourselves  with  the  Stars  and  Strips." 

On  the  contrary.  Life,  which  xrorresponds  to  your  Eng- 
hsh  Punch,  hit  the  mark  when  it  said  that  one  Navafo 
Wankct,  one  Portrait  of  Whistler's  Mother  and  one  taS 
machine  equals  one  refined  American  Home.  Old  Glonr"! 
a  dandy  decoration  in  its  place,  but  we  can't  live  up  Z  t 

'JL^:  iXo'^'n  ^l?'"--'?^-    We  are  really  almbre 
people,  and  come  to  Europe  for  the  colour  that  our  anccs- 


64 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i     » 


r 


tors  left  behind  when  they  crossed  in  search  of  the  dollar. 
We  break  out  only  on  the  Fourth  of  July." 
''I  should  like  to  see  your  rooms,  if  you  will  permit  me." 
"On  condition  that  you  all  come  there  to-morrow  for  a 
little  luncheon  party." 
Viola  was  wildly  excited  at  this  her  first  visit  to  Oxford 
"To  think  of  it !"  she  cried.    "Here  at  this  very  Christ 
Church   Sir   Philip   Sidney   and   Ben  Jonson   were   once 
undergraduates— and  all  the  statesmen— Gladstone  and— 
and — oh,  why  do  you  men  have  all  the  privileges  ?" 

"Well,  you  can  live  at  Somerville  or  Lady  Margaret 
Hall,"  said  Charles.    "And  if  you  are  very  good  and  can 
find  a  chaperon  you  may  come  here  to  tea." 
"Yes,  but  that  is  different.      These    women's    colleges 

haven't  the  traditions,  and  we — we  don't " 

She  hesitated  for  a  word. 
I'You  don't  belong,"  suggested  Kelly. 
"That's  it,"  she  said,  thanking  him  with  a  smile.    "Now 
if  Queen  Elizabeth  had  realized  her  opportunities,  she  would 
have  given  women  the  same  chance  here  as  the  men,  and 
then  we  shouldn't  have  had  three  hundred  years'  handicap 
to  catch  up.    If  we  had  had  more  say  here,  I  think  England 
would  have  been  a  better  country." 
||How  so?"  asked  Kelly,  interested  in  her  enthusiasm. 
"We  would  have  educated  our  women  to  be  better  com- 
panions for  their  children,  and  the  children  would  have 
grown  up  more  likely  to  be  better  citizens.     The  reason 
why  progress  is  so  slow  is  that  only  one  half  of  the  human 
race  has  taken  part  in  the  work." 

The  Mainwarings  however  had  comt  to  Oxford  to  see 
the  races,  not  merely  to  argue  on  education,  so  as  the  after- 
noon drew  on  they  were  anxious  to  make  for  the  river, 
where  from  the  Christ  Church  barge  they  saw  and  were 
thrilled  by  the  glad  mad  procession. 

What  more  charming  sight  has  England  than  the  Broad 
Walk  and  the  banks  of  Isis  in  the  Week  devoted  to  Eights? 
Youth  is  there,  ever  so  gay,  and  Middle  Age.  and  Old  .Age 
infected  by  the  prevailing  air.    A  sombie  note,  it  is  true. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


65 


greyed  dresses  and  dimmed  the  sparkle  of  the  visitors  in 
memory  of  the  dead  King,  but  the  faces  were  not  sad- 
how  could  they  be,  when  the  sun  was  shining,  the  trees 
were  green  the  river  reflected  the  blue  sky,  and  Youth 
would  run  its  race? 

Yet  there  were  some  long  faces  before  the  first  day 
was  done  Christ  Church  started  Head  of  the  River,  but 
when  the  first  of  the  boats  came  into  sight  of  the  Barge  it 
was  New  College  that  was  leading.  The  House  had  fallen 
to  Magdalen  just  outside  the  Gut.  Christ  Church  H  had 
bumped  Onel  earlier  in  the  day,  but  triumph  in  the  Second 
Division  was  poor  consolation  for  this  greater  lapse  from 
grace.  All  the  prophets  had  "told  you  so"  but  it  was  a 
bitter  pill  for  those  who  had  so  long  held  the  pride  of  the 
place. 

"Poor  old  Jeffers,"  said  Charles,  and  described  to  Viola 
the  incident  of  Gilmore's  moustache. 

"Lucky  we  have  something  this  evening  to  cheer  us  up  " 
said  Frank.    'I've  got  six  tickets   for  You  Never  Can 

"Oh  Frank,"  cried  Viola,  "you  are  a  dear!"    But  what 
a  pity  It  IS  Bernard  Shaw.    I  hate  him  so." 
Jit  is  not  whom  or  v/hat  you  hate  or  like."  said  Frank. 
It  IS  what  IS  good  for  you.    I  thought  it  right  for  you  to 

T  il'V  f  ^'**''"  °^  ^'■'-  ^'^"^°"  >"  that  play  and  realize 
the  kind  of  woman  you  will  be  when  you  are  fifty  " 

"I've  seen  her  already-horrid  creature."  replied  Viola. 

Frank  was  always  the  enfant  terrible,"  she  added,  turning 

for  sympathy  to  Qiaries.  turning 

"^r.°?,<^"  ^'"  ^  brothers,"  replied  the  latter.  "Why  do 
you  dislike  Shaw  ?"  »*"y  uo 

"Of  course  he  is  abysmally  clever,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing  but  I  wish  he  had  chosen  some  other  cause  than 
Socialism  for  his  self  advertisement.    Theosophy  01  Chris- 

hn!.  fl*"".  7"'!^^^^  done  i«st  as  well  and  they  would 
have  been  glad  to  have  him.    No  one  will  ever  take  Social 
ism  seriously  so  long  as  G.B.S.  is  supposed  to  be  one  of  the 


66 


DRUMS  AFAR 


,i 


i! 


elect    And  now  he  is  tagging  himself  on,  at  a  safe  distance 
It  IS  true,  to  the  Suffrage  Movement." 

"I  thought,"  said  Charles,  "you  suffragists  believed  in 
anything  for  an  advertisement,  so  long  as  it  drew  attention 
to  the  Cause. 

"No,"  she  said,  "you  forget  I  am  not  a  militant.  To  my 
mmd  it  never  pays  to  be  anything  except  sincere.  Don't 
you  thmk  so,  Mr.  Kelly?" 

in  wIa'  "^^"^  "^^^  drinking  in  every  word  she  said,  chimed 
"You  bet  your  bottom  dollar." 

In  spite  of  her  dislike,  Viola  was  infected  by  the  gaiety 
of  the  audience  and  laughed  immoderately  at  the  play 
You  can't  deny  that  Shaw  is  clever,"  said  Charles. 
Yes  she  replied,  "but  already  he  is  meeting  his  due 
fate.  Last  time  I  saw  this  play  it  was  delicately  sentimen- 
tal. Now  even  the  actors  refuse  to  take  him  seriously,  and 
play  It  as  a  wild  farce."  ' 

"Shaw  has  met  with  a  worse  fate  than  that."  remarked 

rrank.      He  is  now  admired  by  the  Germans." 

Kelly  ingratiated  himself  into  the  good  graces  of  the 

l^Tu'T.^^  ^''  knowledge  of  Oxford,  a  knowledge 

which  he  had  acquired  in  his  tourist  days.     Charles  had 

fallen  into  disgrace  when  he  confessed  that  he  did  not  know 

which  had  been  Ruskin's  rooms  at  Christ  Church,  and  had 

never  heard  of  the  Art  Museum.    Whereas  Kelly  led  the 

way  to  the  Morris  and  Bume-Joncs  tapestry  at  Exeter, 

knew  all  about  the  stained  glass  in  the  Cathedral,  showed 

K  XT  ^°?"*"  """*'  *"^  *^«  R"^kin  water-colours  in 
the  New  Ashmolean,  and  proved  himself  so  excellent  a 
cicerone  that  the  Mainwarings  were  charmed.  When  they 
arrived  at  his  rooms  for  the  promised  luncheon.  Viola  was 
visibly  impressed. 

"William  Morris  could  have  lived  in  this  room,"  she  ex- 
claimed.     Have  you  ever  been  to  Japan.  Mr.  Kelly?" 

Only  once,"  he  modestly  replied.    "You  see  I've  been 
too  busy  until  now  to  travel  much." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


67 


^ 


"Only  once!"  cried  Viola,  who  had  never  been  out  of 
England. 

"Eve  was  only  once  in  the  Garden  of  Eden,"  remarked 
Charles. 

Viola  wore  a  silver-grey  gown  and  hat  which  harmonized 
admirably  with  the  room.  She  walked  slowly  round  study- 
ing the  arrangement,  followed  by  Kelly's  eyes. 

Three  golden  lilies  stood  in  an  old  French  centre-piece 
and  the  table  was  set  out  for  luncheon  with  a  service  of 
ornate  blue  and  red  faience,  new  to  both  Frank  and  Charles 
Viola  was  fascinated. 
"Isn't  this  Rouen  enamelled  ware?"  she  asked 
"Very  near,"  replied  Kelly.    "I  had  it  copied  from  a 
pattern  of  Louis  Poterat.    It's  from  the  period  of  history 
Fitz  IS  said  to  study.    That's  why  I  got  it." 

"My  goodness!"  she  exclaimed.  "An  expensive  study  if 
you  carry  it  to  this  extent." 

"Never  fear,"  said  Charles,  "this  is  Kelly's  hobby  and 
not  mine.  Personally  I  prefer  any  old  dish  I  can  shy 
with  good  conscience  at  my  scout.  This  fancy  ware  would 
make  me  nervous.  Kelly,  old  man.  what  else  have  you  up 
your  sleeve?    Is  lunch  d /a  Louis  Quatorze '" 

"You've  hit  it.  my  boy-following  the  tracks  of  Bechamel 
the  guy  who  mixed  the  sauce  that  made  King  Louis  famous' 
I  ve  got  our  head  cook  so  tame,  he'll  eat  out  of  my  hand. 
He  fell  for  Consommi  Colbert  and  Turbot  d  la  Vatel  and 
Mtgmn  dagneau  Madame  de  Maintenon  and  he'll  float 
along  with  patisserie  of  the  period,  or  I  miss  my  guess. 
Its  wonderful  what  Englishmen  will  do  when  they  are  up 
against  it."  '  '^ 

Whether  the  menu  was  really  of  the  period  or  not.  it 
certainly  was  delicious.  Charles  observed  Viola,  whom  he 
had  known  almost  as  a  vegetarian.  c=»lmly  accept  her  second 

.'K-T'm  I.''''*  ^,^«  "othing  that  she  did  not  sample  twice. 
r«.lS  •  i*  ^'^  '^^''!},^^^y  *»^^  ''Shtd  over  a  sweet  that 
melted  m  the  mouth,  "this  is  forcible  feeding.  1  believe 
you  are  an  Anti-Suffragist." 

Kelly  grinned. 


68 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"No,"  he  said.  "I'm  not  strong  at  any  time  for  Antis. 
Fut  me  down  as  an  American  who  likes  to  stick  with  thines 
to  the  finish."  ^' 

Peckwater,  which  in  other  terms  was  rather  a  tame 
Georgian  quadrangle,  now  was  ablaze  with  flowers.  Every 
window  had  its  box  and  Kelly  for  his  had  chosen  flowers 
all  of  an  orange  vermilion.  When  they  had  finished 
luncheon  and  were  leaving  the  quadrangle  for  the  river 
Charles  drew  Viola's  attention  to  this  note  of  colour  har- 
monizing with  but  at  the  same  time  distinctive  from  the 
rest. 

"Isn't  it  typical?"  he  said. 

To  which  she  answered, 

"He  certainly  has  character." 
^-r^j  the  second  day  of  the  races  New  College  followed 
Magdalen  s  success,  and  the  House  fell  back  to  third  place 
Balhol  was  behind  now,  and  if  Balliol  had  gone  up  on  the 
Jird  day  deep  indeed  would  have  been  their  humiliation. 
1  he  death  of  the  King  was  now  but  a  trifle  compared  to  the 
impending  danger. 

A  thousand  tons  seemed  to  have  been  lifted  off  the  heart 
of  every  House  man  when  on  the  third  day  Christ  Church 
kept  its  place  on  the  river— only  third,  it  was  true,  but  thank 
heaven  not  fourth. 

7°^J^^^  '^  ^"  ^°  "^"*^^  *°  ^^^'"  said  Viola,  as  they 
walked  back  through  Meadows  to  the  Old  Library. 

"Why  not?"  answered  Charies.  "The  House  gets  into 
your  very  blood  when  you  have  lived  in  it  for  a  while. 
You  feel  its  triumphs  as  a  personal  victory,  and  its  losses 
as  a  personal  defeat.  If  we  had  fallen  to  Balliol,  the  only 
thing  to  do  would  have  been  to  get  drunk  and  try  in  that 
way  to  forget  disgrace.    Balliol !  of  all  the  ghastly  fates  I" 

During  the  mornings,  old  Mr.  Mainwaring  wandered 
about  from  college  to  college,  "intoxicated,"  as  he  himself 
said,    with  this  debauch  of  English  Gothic." 

Mrs.  Mainwaring  was  less  exalted.  All  she  dreamed  of 
now  was  to  see  her  daughter  comfortably  married.  Here 
m  three  thousand  undergraduates  she  saw  three  thousand 


DRUMS  AFAR 


69 


possible  sons-m-law,  and  their  variety  suggested  only  a 
wider  choice  Art,  she  knew,  was  but  a  precarious  source 
of  income,  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  her  own  two  hundred 
pounds  a  year  Frank  would  never  have  gone  to  Christ 
Church. 

Among  the  friends  that  Frank  brought  round  to  meet 
Viola  she  therefore  beamed  benevolently  on  the  better 
dressed,  made  discreet  inquiries  about  their  homes  and 
peoples.  Somehow  or  other  she  took  comparatively  little 
note  of  Kelly  in  the  light  of  possible  suitor.  A  foreigner 
to  her  belonged  to  another  sphere. 

Charles  suspected  that  she  had  a  warm  comer  in  her 
heart  for  himself,  by  no  means  a  despicable  match  from 
her  point  of  view  He  smiled  as  he  thought  of  the  surprise 
tfie  old  lady  would  have  when  she  discovered  his  intrigue. 

J  ''I  ^'°}^  ^""^  ^^"y  *^'^  "ot  "»ake  a  match,  he 
would  not  have  been  altogether  sorry  if  that  failure  meant 
a  better  chance  for  himself.  For  Viola  was  never  so 
charming  as  in  these  Eights  Week  days.    There  was  not 

n.r™^''  ^     u-  rj"  °/  *^^  *'^'"^"'  ^"^  «^«  h^d  the  tem- 
perament m  which  he  knew  he  could  find  companionship 
should  ever  she  forget  she  was    hree  years  older  and  en- 
courage his  still  untrammelled  affection 
h  Jrllt'  ^^^l!^^  ''««"  "'"'ted  to  four  days,  so  that  Kelly 

inl,l,    •^"T''  *'r  *°  ^°*^-    S*'"  ^«  ^^^"^ed  to  miss  no 
opportunity  of  speaking  to  Viola. 

TW^  I?'*  <^^^"i!?&,^as  <levoted  to  an  expedition  on  the 
^^r/fl  r'  t^Godstow.  Viola  was  a  trifle  disappointed 
Lv  fl  .T'  °^  P^'^  Meadow,  but  fell  into  raptures  after 
SeVro.??  •"*«  ^»»^«'^^<!y  water  below  the  lashers  where 
the  Trout  Inn  offers  its  plain  but  hospitable  shelter.  There 
a  supper  of  corned  beef  and  lettuce,  cheese  and  shandygaff 
Jrom  ^h?t:h!^  strawberries  and  cream,  quickly  disappeared 
from  the  tables  under  the  trees.  After  which  thev  oaid  a 
visit  to  the  little  old  village  of  Wytham.  with  ifs Thatched 

Kellv^'^^-rr"'  ''^■*'''^  '"^^^  '^""^'"^"S  ^'^'^  b^^^.  where 
th^n^.  u  K  '?  was  more  ivy  on  the  walls  and  houses 
than  could  be  found  in  the  whole  of  the  U.  S.  A    while 


70 


DRUMS  AFAR 


:?   ! 


n?^  M  V  t  T"  '"  ^"^'^^  '«"»'«<1«<1  hi™  SO  much 
h2  ^7  York  sky-scraper  as  the  hollyhocks  in  the  gar 

n!,tt  U^J''"^  they  started  downstream,  they  crossed  the 
riistzc  bndge  from  the  Inn  and  sat  on  the  bank  of  the  main 
ZTZ  ""SF^T  ?%NunnerK,  where  they  watched  the  dusk 
fall  on  the  Nun's  Chapel  under  the  tall  elms  and  on  the 
rumed  walls  capped  with  ivy. 

Dusk  mellowed  into  a  tender  moonlight  night,  and  on 
Uie  return  downstream  Kelly  and  Viola  shared  the  can^ 
leavmg  the  punt  for  the  other  four. 

FrlS."  "  "'**'"'^  "^^'"^  ^^  P*''^'"  '^^^  Charles  to 

ur^J/'J^^r^''''^  evidently  began  to  get  anxious,  and 
urged  Frank  to  go  faster  when  the  canoe  threatened  to 
pass  out  of  sight.  Yet  when  they  did  catch  up,  neither  of 
the  two  showed  sign  of  embarrassment 

At  last  the  train  carried  the  visitors  back  to  London. 
Charles  dropped  m  that  evening  after  supper  to  see  if 
on^LT/  '"'""  "P  to  anything.  The  latter  was  sitting 
e'd  strofts^or  ^"°''"^  '  ^^"^  ^'^^^  '"  ^"  ^^-^--"<^ 

deZtdtlav^roV'^""  °^  ^^°'^^"  ^'^^^  ^^-^-' 

Kelly  blew  two  or  three  clouds  of  smoke  before  replying, 
then  said  enigmatically.  ""l^y^^S' 

"She's  not  the  kind  of  medicine  Doc  recommended." 
Thats  rather  unfair,  isn't  it.?"  said  Charles.  "Viola 
seemed  to  like  you.  and  you  certainly  were  leading  her  on. 
bhe  IS  a  nice  girl  and  now  you  would  throw  her  over  be- 
cause she  does  not  fit  the  exact  description  of  your  ass  of  a 
doctor  in  Chicago.    Why  don't  you  go  back  to  him?" 

Just  what  I  mean  to  do."  replied  Kelly.    "He  can  find 
this  pink  English  girl  for  himself.     I've  quit " 
T^^^'H^/^^  not  perhaps  correspond  to  the  Christmas  card 
fecd^heah"^  ^^^'■^^^'  "^"^  ^«  '^  P^- 

"You  bet  your  life."  replied  Kelly,  "but  her  point  is 


DRUMS  AFAR 


71 


that  the  husband  also  must  prove  healthy  before  he  earns 
his  wife." 

"Have  you  asked  her  ?" 
Kelly  nodded, 
"Won't  she  have  you  ?" 

"She's  side-tracked  me  until  she  is  thoroughly  posted 
on  my  past  moral  and  physical  history.  We  had  a  heart 
to  heart  talk  in  that  canoe  last  night— why  couldn't  you 
have  run  that  punt  into  us  and  upset  us  so  that  I  could 
save  her  and  put  some  romance  into  the  thing?  She  was 
perfectly  frank,  and  I  tell  you  she  had  me  blushing  as 
well  as  herself.  The  moon  was  shining  bright  as  day,  so 
I  could  see.  It  took  all  her  time  to  get  out  what  she 
thought  she  had  to  say,  but  I  guess  the  way  she's  been 
brought  up  she  had  to  say  it  or  bust.  'Mr.  Kelly,'  she  said, 
'I  hke  you  or  I  wouldn't  say  what  I'm  trying  to  say  now.' 
She  had  her  head  turned  away,  but  she  faced  round  then 
and  made  herself  look  square  into  my  eyes.  'I  want  to  be 
the  mother  of  worth-while  children,  and  I've  been  taught 
enough  to  know  I  can't  be  that  unless  my  husband  has  lived 
cleanly.  Chicago's  a  long  way  off.  How  do  I  know  what 
your  hfe  has  been  there  ?    If  your  doctor  could  give  you  a 

clean  bill  of  health ' " 

"So  that's  your  hurry,"  said  Charles. 
"Fitz,  old  man,  this  is  serious.    Honest  to  God,  I  have 
led  a  clean  life— not  that  I  wouldn't  have  strayed  from 
the  straight  and  narrow  if  I  hadn't  had  reasons— for  one 
thmg  I've  been  too  busy— went  to  work  when  I  was  eleven- 
saved  enough  to  attend  night-school— worked  my  head  off 
ever  smce,  except  for  that  one  little  trip  to  Japan,  and  I 
took  my  mother  with  me  then.    But  these  New  Woman 
notions  are  the  limit.    I'd  rather  go  again  before  the  State 
Bar  Examiners  than  face  Miss  Mainwaring  again  in  that 
canoe.    Well,  I  guess  she  had  a  perfect  right,  only  what 
she  said  didn't  seem  to  fit  in  with  the  moonlight  and  the 
stars  and  the  river.     Regular  eugenics  fan" 
"What  did  you  say?" 
"Well,  I  got  sort  of  personal,  and  said  I  too  was  taking 


72 


DRUMS  AFAR 


might  have  to  live  with  tS  ,  ^  T'  '^^'^'^  °^^^"t  t^^^t  I 
of  a  home  could  ^wrecked  •„.;'  '°  "^T  ™"^  ^'^^  P^^^^ 
as  by  vice.    Would  yrSve"/^.^^^'^,^  \  -^"-Papers 

she  agreed  with  ^e-'she's  anTrtl  ,  sure'  hinf '^^  ^^  ^^'^ 
D,d  you  tell  her  what  your  li  e  had  S?" 

belie?d^Trora^rt„t"^^-^    She^w^S  never  have 

"W'^s^dteT"   •''  '*°^'"  ^^'^  Charles. 
"Is  th'al  /of  S:  yoTSish  ^Ir^'"^^'  '^  ^  "^  •<^- 
an  affidavit?    I'll  teH  Ln  S''^"^^  *"^^'"S  ^i^^out 

if  it  sounds  good"  *°  ^°"'  °'^  "^*"'  ^"d  you  can  say 

dre''w\trex\:[:f;„f^^^  ^'-yt  thoughtfully, 

"Let  me  tell  you  first  of  ^H  It!  ^^If''*'  °^  ^"^"J^^- 
United  States   for  era  f   1,^"'.  *^=t  °f  fll  the  cities  in  the 

crime.  Chicag;tpfThMl:;ur'A:d  1T""^^^^         ^- 
a  woman  there  eoes  wrnnt^   ,4  t^  l^*  "*  *^"  ^O".  if 

hooks  on  her   she  has  as  much     i'*'  '^'  ^^"^  ^^^  ^«- 
hell.     I've  had  too  mL  ""^^""^^  ^'  ^  snowball  in 

Light  diltric'tl  S^nkTe^:raL^^^^^^^^        T'^  ^^  ^^' 
anything  else  for  the  ZnZ^lu       1^  °J  P'easure  means 

I  have  !een  too  mich  of  ?h"  ^'"  **'',^;'"'"*^  damnation, 
keep  a  woman  under  Since Tw.Tf  ''''  *°  ^^'^  *° 
have  worked  all  da7and  half  the  If  fT  ^'^^  °'^'  ^ 
self-supporting  and^se"  res^cU^^^  ^  independent, 

waiting  for  th%  clients  v^K^fd  „rcom7rr'"  "" 
'ng  enough  as  messenger-boy  to  oav  mv  u'v  ^^^  *^'■"■ 
and  clothe  us  both.  ^^  ^  schoolmg  and  feed 

"No  one  except  Mother  was  kind  tn  m- 
gave  me  a  nickel  I  did  not  elm     a^  *'  "°  °"^  ^^e'' 

before  I  was  fourteen  was  when  t  ,^^' ^""^  f'^^^  of  luck 
Michigan  Avenue     It  took  ife  "1^  *^°""'"  ^''^  "?«" 


I 


DRUMS  AFAR 


73 


mv.tat.ons  to  the  dance.  Bright  lights  looked  good  to  me 
and  tasty  food  and  the  gay  restaurants.  No  datSned  pX-' 
s.ng.ng  church  for  me.    I  earned  my  own  money,  and  couTd 

pend  .t  as  I  chose.  Money  is  a  good  thing  to  spend  and 
I  could  hck  up  the  booze  because  I  liked  it.  Mother  h 
was  that  kept  me  straight  on  women.  'Mike,  dear.'  she 
sa.d  the  cost  of  a  woman's  soul  is  too  high  a  price  to 
pay  for  the  pleasure  of  a  night.'  I  have  respected  her  wish 
because  she  has  been  all  the  worid  to  me.  and  I  would  seiner 
d.e  than  g,ve  her  pa.n.    So  on  that  side  my  sheet  is  clean  '' 

He  spoke  w.th  such  intensity  that  Charies  was  stirred 
Inst.nct.vely  he  stretched  out  his  hand 

'Thanks,  old  man."  said  Kelly,  grasping  it    his  voice 
"^^.^"^  fr°*'°"-     "I  '^^  you  believe  meP         '^°''' 
Who  couldn't  believe  you?"  said  Charies.    "Why  don't 
you  tell  her  your  story  as  you  have  told  it  to  me^^' 

Perhaps  I  shall."  said  the  American.    "But  whoi  I  do 
1 11  take  no  chances,  I'll  have  my  witness  handy."  ' 


CHAPTER  VI 
^C^arle,  and  Fr.A  Aerefo^' decided  on  U..  Harwich 

«"^:K„Td«  i2j.i:^  Sd^rr-  •""  «■'=  --' 

of  them  had  much  Mna  Sn     f^  ''  ^^7'"'*  ""*" 
much  to  dancing    He  was  toZ,?!?"u*^''  """'  t*^™ 

North  Oxford  for  whom  cZZ  ''  ^'  ""  P"P'e  '" 
crowning  joy.  Fr^ TLnTT-""  "="  >PI»™tly  the 
unpaid  biju/shudted  «  L  „  'km  **"  deluged  with 
anxious  to  make  ud  for  I^  ^"^^J"  '"'"^  ^"^  was 
term.  He  wi^hrfTo  ftlrt  reaZ^  ■"  ''"''  "'«'«•«'  '" 
Besides,  he  armed   if  ^h,L         .^  "'  '°™  ='  fo^sible. 

something  of  cS„"u*:LT:"f:'ar.h^  ""''  ""?'  ^"= 

rr'tSi'" '-'  '-^" '-  .S'^^afthrrss 

do^a^r^aStSte'itlh"^ 
I.  was  a  longer  route,  but  good  weathef  sped  the  voy- 

74  ^ 


DRUMS  AFAR 


75 


the 


age.  and  a  game  or  two  of  quoits  on  deck  soon  brc 
ice  among  the  fellow  passengers. 

As  the  steamer  entered  the  mouth  of  the  Elbe,  they  began 
to  understand  why  Baron  v.  Gleyn  had  recommended  th^r" 
to  come  this  way.  Passing  Cuxhaven  tney  were  overshad- 
owed by  a  transatlantic  giant  of  the  HlmburgX.!ca 
line  taking  its  passengers  aboard  by  tender 

One  of  Ballin;s  Babies,"  said  the  mate.'leaning  against 

■;  rail  and  spitting  into  the  sea.  ^    * 

Who  is  Ballin?"  asked  Charles 
.■n^^''4l'Tft'T  Bill  his  pocket-money ?"  replied  the 

ov.n  shipping  men  put  together.    There's  not  an  Austrian 
a  Ruthenian.  a  Russian  or  a  German  emigrant  but  Davs 

slUl^^sts'r" ^"'^  "°°^-     ^^'^  °^  y<^-  sfanlrd^iHJ 

As  they  swept  up  the  Elbe,  they  passed  other  liners 

tralia  a^d  t  ""'T  '''t'''  '^^  ^^^'^'"^  and  f^r  A^  ! 
tralia  and  then  when  they  reached  the  harbour  of  Ham- 
burg itself,  a  swarm  of  tugs,  motor-boats,  ferries  tenders 
aiid  hghters  scurried  to  and  fro.  churning  up  ^  water 

Quays  stretched  to  left  and  to  right  of  them   lined  with 
shi^s^discharging  or  taking  in  cargo'  .videncrof  "no'rjjis 

"Near  a  million  tons  of  shipping  is  run  by  the  Hamburir- 
Amencan  alone."  said  the  mate.    "And  there's  L  NO  L 
at  Bremen  and  all  the  others." 

sairSarS'  '''"'  '''"'  "''''  ^"'  '°^  ^^"^'"^  ^  ^avy." 

sm^lThuTlu  ''^"'^  '^.  "''''''    "^^  ^'^'  t,een  pretty 
smart  to  bluff  them  out  of  it  so  long." 

At  the  station  they  had  two  hours  to  wait  befor-  their 
Twas  r'hr''  r  '''''  ^^""^^^^^  -^  ^-  a  brief  s.^" 

with  yachts  "';^''  '"r''  ^Y-  ""^  ^^^  A'^^^'-  ^-^  ^^y 

with  yachts  and  row-boats  and  .wans.    The  grass  on  the 
banks  was  beautifully  cared  for.  and  the  strfets  bore  aU 


76 


DRUMS  AFAR 


1^/iTef '"'"^'■°"'  °f  the  wealth  to  which  such  shops 
The  people  in  the  streets  did  not  look  so  very  un-Eng- 

w?r"   stouter   h'l.t  T"  ^"**  ^^'^^^  °"  ^^e  whJe 

were  stouter,  but  many  who  were  talking  German  mieht 

c2.      "  '""'  '°^  ^'"^^'"^  -  ^-  -  ^'o"es  wo^W 

ouJ^7?h  "°*  ^^'J'^'y  ^'^^  '"  *^^  t'-a'"  and  had  moved 
out  of  the  seaport  atmosphere  that  they  felt  they  were  !n 

BuZZ  ""\-  u'  ""^^^^  ^^>^  had'^hosen  a  sSed 

sre^'Zirn^HTw^  X";;^—  ^  ''- 

vynat  took  their  fancy  most  were  the  piccolos  or  bov- 
iTsongl?/^"  ^'°"^  ''^  P'^^^°™  with^their^ays'S:, 

r™^'aa- r ''^"'  ''^'"^  ^""^^^-'  «-'  Cognac,  Ar- 

FrL^ktU'^thevl^^  '"'''"^  ^^"°^^'''  C^^^>^«  and 
r  rank  agreed  they  had  never  seen  so  many  plain  men  and 

fat  women  m  so  short  a  time 
At  Gottingen  they  had  arranged  for  board  with  a  Ger- 

hZ  oTll^-.^''"  ^''^°""  S^^^^'^t  ^as  the  wTdow  at  the 
head  of  the  house,  a  good-natured,  motherly  soul  with  a 

H^elor"  mt  mLt'^^^^       ^^ ^'  l"^  ^-'^  grow°n  Ip^'i'ns' 
nere  tor  the  modest  sum  of  two  hundred  marks  or  t^ 

Se:ch  of^them^'*^  '^'  ^^^5  °^  ^^  ^  "^^Srolm 
W!tn  each  of  them  a  large  wooden  bedstead  holding  a  d«.n 

mattress   spotless  linen,  large  square  feathery  p  Hows  a^d 

a  small  down  quilt  which  it  would  have  hurt  th^dd  lady's 

feehngs  not  to  use  in  the  hottest  weather.    In  addZn  they 

had  a  smmg-room  with  painted  floor  which  Minna    the 

mornmg.     St.ff  old-fashioned  furniture  gave  the  house  an 

T^:^l  "''^'  """'^  ^^-  '---^  ^-  Early  vrctrrian 

Frau  Pastorin  was  a  born  housewife,  rising  at  six.  and 


I 
I 

I 

f 


DRUMS  AFAR  77 

Sr.l^l/°J  1,^",  .^^/^™T  "^P'  '"  ^J^'^^h  she  probably 
dreamed  of  her  k.tchen.  doing  from  morn  to  night  the  thou- 
sand and  one  things  the  born  housewife  thinks  necessar^ 

?auX"r  V''^  '"^  :^'"'^  '''''  ^^°  -'^^"  «he  had  borne  hTr 
daughter  Emma  mto  spectacles  and  the  Evangelical  Faith 

husiLnT  n  .'T  ^'^'^^^^  ^'^'^^  "°  t'^e-born  German 
husband  will  take  a  wife,  and  though  that"  would  never 

LSTt'  ''  '"  "?''^L^  ^^^•^^^'•°"  --  -f  E-ma 
lived  to  be  a  virgm  of  a  hundred  and  twenty,  still  the 

great  closet  m  which  it  was  stored  was  now  /ery  neariy 

Much  needlework  had  meant  much  sitting  and  much 
T!^'7a^  "^^  T''  '°  '^^'  ^'^^  P^^t°"n  was  stou^and 
icularly  charming  in  the  gentle  smile  with  which  the  old 
^dy  greeted  them  whenever  they  met.  Her  blessing  of 
Gesegnete  Mahlzeit  after  each  meal  came  from  a  genefou 
heart,  and  they  learned  to  say  the  words  themselvef  fusTas 

themouJh"/  ^'^^  PT^^^  ''''  "^'^^  -°"'d  have  mad^ 
the  mouth  of  even  Kelly  water. 

Emma,  a  youthful  replica  of  her  mother,  was  born  as 
has  been  said,  into  the  Evangelical  Faith,  but  into  No  pLith 
At  All  were  born  the  two  sons  Herr  Dr.  Med  Geor^ 
Schmidt  and  Herr  Cand.  Chem.  Karl  Schmidt    both  ^f 

rnd^Fl^nt^T^'r.^  """^  P^"^"*^^  *^^'^  "^^^  to  CharlL 
and  Frank.     Karl  the  younger  studied  chemistry  at  the 

University,  devoting  ten  hours  a  day  to  the  thirtieth  part  of 

an  expenment  which  would  be  summarized  by  his  profes- 

and  he  pot  a  good  degree,  he  might  be  taken  on  as  assistant 
n    he  great  man  s  laboratory,  and  in  that  hope  was  con- 
ent  to  slave,  with  no  relaxation  beyond  beer  and  an  occa- 
sional  evening  at  "Skat." 

nl^Lfwl  T"'  ^'°J^:, ''"'  ^''"*"'"  ^"^f  *^  his  mother. 
DrLi!i  ^eg'-ee  of  doctor  of  medicine  and  had  been 
promised  a  partnership  by  an  uncle  at  Berlin  when  heTe- 
tumed  from  a  trip  as  ship's  surgeon.    But  the  sea  had  so 


78 


DRUMS  AFAR 


roughened  his  manner  that  the  uncle  had  cried  off   and 

SZn  7u\T^  °T  "^^"-^  ^^^°^^-     Travel  made  hTm 
thump  the  table  for  German  overseas  expansion. 

If  on  y  we  had  a  naval  Bismarck,"  he  would  roar  "one 

as  our  German  Army.    But  you  English  have  it  all  your 
own^way,  all  except  in  business.     We  are  beating  ^ou 

h^^i^'.^u  ^J"'l^"ow  statistics  till  the  old  lady  trem- 
bled lest  he  should  drive  away  these  good-paying  EnS 

was  thri^tt Jlf    ^r.S'  f '  P^'^^^'  *^"*  ^^^"  P^^torin 
was  thri  t  Itself,  got  the  last  pfenning  out  of  old  raes  and 

boots  that  an  Englishwoman  would  have  thJown  or^given 

away,  wasted  not  an  ounce  of  meat  or  vegetables,  and  thus 

without  respite  scraped  for  the  Mitgift  or  dowi^  of  cash 

which  wotUd  accompany  the  Ausstaf/ung  and  cLent  her 

Emma  m  the  affection  of  the  destined  lover 

Her  fear  lest  Charies  and  Frank  should  be  driven  awav 

was  groundless.    They  knew  that  England  was  a  dSarded 

eamX"f  '^"  ^'""^  ^'''''''''  "^^^^  ^^^  ^^^m,  here  to 
Jeam  the  language,  not  to  convert  the  Anglophobe  and 
Georg  was  an  interesting  type.  "pnooe,  ana 

Their  English  clothes  at  first  attracted  irksome  notice 
m  the  streets  from  small  boys  who  pursued  them  shou^g! 
Engelander  Geld-verschwendcr, 
Engelander  Cafe-brender!" 

They  therefore  bought  German  hats  and  left  their  clothes 
unpressed  so  as  to  look  less  unlike  natives 

The  peaceful  German  town  with  its  old  ramparts  turned 
mto  a  promenade,  with  its  gaily  capped  and  banded  Ttu 
dents  with  Its  barracks  full  of  soldiers  had  much  that  was 
quamt  and  interesting.  Charies  and  Frank  were  fascinated 
by  the  dr^l-yard  where  the  young  soldiers  learned  to  shake 
the  ground  with  the  Paradetritt.  Relentless  indeed  was  the 
discphne  under  which  they  drilled.  See  for  instance  that 
officer  back  his  horse  into  the  face  of  a  private  slightly 
out  of  alignment.    At  hot-high  noon  each  day.  one  lifded 


^m^j^m 


DRUMS  AFAR 


79 


3 


infantryman  was  put  through  solitary  drill  by  a  ferocious 
sergeant. 

"Tried  to  evade  service  by  emigrating  to  America,"  ex- 
plamed  Georg.  "Never  took  out  his  papers  as  American 
citizen  and  came  back  here  on  business  thinking  ht  would 
be  forgotten.    This  is  his  punishment." 

"But  at  his  age?" 

"He  will  surely  break  down." 

"Perhaps  die.?" 

"Very  likely." 

"What  then  does  Germany  gain?" 

"An  example." 

The  benefit  of  military  training  on  a  nation  of  such 
heavy  beer-drinkers  was  however  obvious—without  it  they 
must  surely  die  of  racial  dropsy.  Charles  could  not  help 
admiring  the  sturdy  fellows  who  made  the  air  vibrate  with 
their  full-chested  soldier  songs  as  they  marched  alone  the 
country  roads, 

"We  must  join  the  O.  T.  C.  next  term,"  he  said. 

Frank  laughed  in  derision. 

The  coarse  black  Pumpernickel  which  the  soldiers  them- 
selves found  so  monotonous  was  looked  on  as  a  delicacy  in 
the  civilian  household,  and  Frau  Pastorin  used  to  send 
Minna  to  wheedle  some  of  her  soldier  friends  into  selling 
their  rations.  Minna  N^as  nothing  loath,  for  this  enabled 
her  to  make  known  her  own  attractions  and  find  out  how 
much  some  Hans  would  take  to  be  her  lord  and  master. 

Of  the  fine  evenings  there  was  the  Stadtpark  to  which 
most  of  Gottingen  repaired  for  beer  and  the  local  civil  or 
military  band,  or  sometimes  more  distinguished  orchestras 
from  other  cities.  For  a  small  provincial  town  the  music 
was  astonishing,  and  the  family  character  of  the  audience 
made  it  all  the  more  pleasant.  Unt:'  the  close  of  the  sum- 
mer term,  the  students  filled  the  tables  allotted  to  their 
various  clubs,  several  odoriferous  with  antiseptic  and  ban- 
daged from  recent  duels.  The  foreigners  forgathered  at  an 
international  table,  at  which  Charles  and  Frank  met  Amer- 
icans. Dutch.  French.  Creeks.  Hungarians,  and  Japs,  all 


£ 


8o 


DRUMS  AFAR 


if 


1 


fraternizmg  over  ,ce-cold  lager  and  drinking  "Ich  komme 
%Aru'  i^^,^°"i'"«  nach"  according  to  student  etiquette. 
Why  don  t  you  fellows  try  Oxford  or  Cambridge?" 
asked  Charles  of  a  burly  Califomian.  "We  have  our  Amer- 
ican Rhodes  scholars,  of  course,  but  these  are  few  in  com- 
parison with  the  Americans  here." 

"Reason  obvious,"  replied  the  Califomian.  "We  come 
here  to  study,  not  to  acquire  an  English  accent  or  learn 
your  style  of  rowing." 

I'^^i^^,"*^"*^^*  "°  chemists,  nor  Oxford  scholars?" 
asked  Charles. 

"One  or  two  muddle  through,"  replied  the  other,  "just 
as  your  army  muddles  through  a  war.  But  times  are 
changing,  and  your  methods  are  too  costly.  A  German 
degree  ,s  dollars  and  cents  to  us.  It  stands  for  scientific 
method  not  pleasant  manners.  We  pay  to  come  to  Ger- 
many.   We  are  subsidized  to  go  to  Oxford  " 

The  wildest  gaiety  Frau  Pastorin  could  think  of  was  a 
picmc  at  Plesse,  a  walk  through  the  forest  to  the  top  of 
he  hill  where  beside  the  ruin  there  was  beer  for  those  who 
brought  their  own  Butterhrot  and  sausage.  From  there,  if 
It  were  a  Wednesday,  and  not  too  late,  one  could  go  on  to 
the  open  air  dancing  in  the  woods  at  Mariaspring.  But  the 
old  lady  was  happiest  in  her  own  garden,  fresh  from  her 
afternoon  nap,  drinking  coflFee  with  a  neighbour  who 
dropped  in  to  sew  or  knit  for  company.  Charles  and 
Frank  would  sit  and  listen,  picking  up  here  and  there  a 
phrase  they  could  understand. 

To  Charles  Frau  Pastorin  took  special  fancy.  As  they 
sauntered  along  a  path  through  the  woods  one  day  she 
stopped  at  a  great  silver  birch  and  showed  him  how  to 
strip  off  bark  in  sheets. 

"That  is  what  you  should  write  your  love-letters  on  " 
•she  said  vvith  a  smile.  "It  is  more  romantic  than  ordinar'y 
paper,  and  a  girl  loves  roir.mce." 

-I   wish  I  knew  the  girl,"  s.iid  Charles,   "but  honour 
l>nght,  I  have  not  met  her  yet," 
"Ilcrr  JcV  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  "How  cold  blooded 


DRUMS  AFAR 


8i 


you  must  be!  To  think  that  any  one  so  amiable  could 
live  to  twenty  without  a  single  affair!  We  always  imagine 
the  Englisla  to  be  so  romantic.  They  marry  whom  they 
choose,  if  tbev  are  in  love,  and  do  not  ask  for  a  dowry. 
Well  then  if  you  cannot  find  a  fellow-countryman,  let  me 
find  a  Fraukrin  for  you.  Would  you  wish  her  Heht  or 
dark?"  ^ 

"Light  is  nicer  than  dark  in  the  case  of  beer,"  said 
Charles. 

She  shook  her  finger  at  him. 
^  "Ah,  you  are  as  matter  of  fact  as  our  German  men. 
But  I  prefer  to  be  more  sentimental.    Heine,  our  dear  Got- 
tingen  poet,  was  right  when  he  said, 

"  'Like  a  great  poet.  Nature  produces  the  greatest  effects 
with  the  fewest  materials— sun,  trees,  flowers,  water  and 
love— that  is  all.  If  indeed  the  last  is  wanting  to  the  heart 
of  the  beholder,  the  whole  is  likely  to  seem  to  him  to  be  a 
daub— the  sun  is  only  so  many  miles  in  diameter,  the  trees 
are  good  for  firewood,  the  flowers  are  classified  by  the  num- 
ber of  their  stamens,  and  the  water  is — wet.'  " 

"I  believe  you  write  poetry  yourself,"  said  Charles  at 
random. 

Frau  Pastorin  blushed,  then  seized  him  by  the  arm,  and 
looking  round  to  make  sure  that  no  one  was  listening,  said, 

"^  es,  I  do— but  none  of  my  children  know  it.  I  write 
under  a  pen-name,  and  in  the  evenings  Emma  sometimes 
reads  aloud  my  verses  from  the  magazines  we  get  through 
the  reading-circle." 

"I  hope  she  likes  them." 

"I  think  she  does.  I  know  she  sometimes  buys  extra 
copies,  and  cuts  my  poems  out  to  send  to  a  particular 
friend;  but  Georg,  if  he  is  there"— here  she  sighed— 
"laughs  and  makes  fun  of  them.  'Why  can't  our  poets  be 
more  up-to-date,'  he  says,  'why  can't  they  write  about  food 
and  cooking,  instead  of  this  everlasting  Liebe.    We  Germans 


82 


DRUMS  AFAR 


don't  have  Liehe  ztvy  more.    We  just  have  Verhdltnisse.' 
What  you  call  relationships." 

Oiarles  knew  enough  German  now  to  understand  the 
double-meaning,  and  blushed. 

"Yes,"  she  continued,  "Georg  is  rough  in  his  talk.  It 
all  comes  from  going  to  sea.  If  only  we  Germans  left 
the  sea  to  others,  we  should  be  more  happy.  The  sea 
seems  to  get  like  beer  into  the  heads  of  our  young  men- 
it  makes  them  coarse  and  boisterous  and  impatient  with 
the  old  home  life.  They  want  our  cities  to  be  world- 
cit.es  and  they  talk  of  war  as  if  it  were  a  pleasant  thing. 
But  I  lived  near  the  frontier  in  1870,  and  I  have  nursed 
the  wounded.    May  it  never  be  again  in  my  time!" 

In  the  mornings  Charles  and  Frank  took  German  les- 
iJf  ?«  ""^  ,f.  whiskered  beer  barrel,  Herr  Privat  Docent 
Wolff,  a  rolling  though  inaccurate  encyclopaedia. 

"Every  English  house,"  he  would  insist,  "has  'Burke's 
Peerage'  on  the  hall  table.  Shakespere  got  his  plays  from 
German  sources,  jawoM.  and  Schiller's  translation  is  greater 
than  the  original  English.  All  the  finest  Shakespere  schol- 
ars are  Germans.  The  English  force  their  criminals  to  join 
the  army,  because  it  is  cheaper  to  keep  them  in  barracks 
than  in  gaol.  The  British  Empire  is  dissolving  just  as  the 
Roman  Empire  fell  when  it  had  become  too  scattered  to 
defend  with  Roman  soldiers.  The  English  fear  to  go  to 
war  except  with  native  races." 

With  rnalicious  joy  Herr  Privat  Docent  used  as  textbook 
for  their  lessons  Treitschke's  "Die  Politik."  in  which  the  an- 
tagonism between  Prussian  and  English  ideals  is  accentu- 
ated by  that  firebrand  Professor  of  History. 

"The  German  historians  are  the  greatest,"  said  this  Ger- 
man, "and  the  greatest  of  German  historians  is  Treitschke 
who  says  that  the  English  are  a  nation  of  robbers.  With 
your  hypocritical  diplomacy  you  ask  for  a  'naval  holiday' 
and  preach  a  European  peace  so  that  you  can  steal  new  ter- 
ritory in  Africa.  No,  no,  we  have  polished  our  German 
spectacles  and  can  see  through  all  this  trickery  We  de- 
mand our  place  on  the  sea,  as  well  as  in  the  sun      See 


/^^g^^'^^g' 


DRUMS  AFAR 


83 


i 


where  the  great  Treitschke  says  'The  dreadful  prospect  pre- 
sents Itself  of  England  and  Russia  dividing  the  world  be- 
tween them,  and  then  it  is  not  certain  which  would  be 
more  immoral,  more  terrible— the  Russian  knout  or  English 
gold.' " 

"Worse  than  either,"  said  Charles,  "would  be  the  Prussian 
'Verhoten.'  The  English  may  be  rich  and  may  be  robbers, 
but  their  victims  find  them  very  pleasant  to  live  with. 
On  the  other  hand  Bismarck,  the  greatest  hero  of  your 
great  historian,  used  to  say  it  was  impossible  to  get  out  of 
bed  and  walk  to  the  window  without  breaking  a  Prussian 
law.  The  same  great  hero,  before  the  war  of  1870  com- 
plained to  William  I  that  he  was  the  first  Hohenzollem 
who  had  not  grabbed  some  one  else's  land." 

"Unsinn!"  cried  Herr  Privat  Docent,  "You  are  never 
serious.    Let  us  continue  our  reading." 

Although  there  was  little  excitement  about  this  life  in 
Gottingen,  both  Frank  and  Charles  were  perfectly  content. 
They  managed  to  get  through  a  great  deal  of  reading,  thus 
making  up  for  the  neglect  of  the  past  three  terms.  The 
exercise  they  took  was  a  daily  spin  on  bicycles  which  they 
found  well  suited  to  the  very  fair  German  roads— then  a 
swim  in  the  Leine.  When  the  University  session  was  at 
an  end,  and  the  hot  days  of  August  drove  those  who  could 
afford  it  to  the  seaside  or  to  the  mountains,  they  showed 
no  signs  of  moving,  much  to  Frau  Pastorin's  relief. 

Ere  they  went  back  to  England,  they  were  reminded  of 
the  darker  side  of  this  idyllic  existence.  Frau  Pastorin 
came  back  white-faced  one  afternoon  from  a  neighbour's 
Kaffeeklatsch  saying  that  Frau  Professor  Himmelfahrt, 
one  of  her  frequent  visitors,  had  been  informed  against  to 
the  pohce  for  saying  that  the  Kaiser  was  half -crazy,  and 
had  been  condemned  to  three  months  gaol.  Fraulein 
Emma's  dearest  friend,  engaged  to  a  lieutenant,  was  in- 
structed by  his  Colonel  to  break  off  the  engagement  as  he 
did  not  think  her  dowry  adequate. 

When  they  got  tired  of  bicycling,  they  found  many  a 
pleasant  walk  in  the  surrounding  woods.    Little  foot-paths 


84 


DRUMS  AFAR 


ran  beside  many  of  the  country  roads  with  their  fringe  of 
heavy  laden  cherry  trees. 

"Viola  should  be  here,"  said  Charles  one  day.  as  he 

Za^  .tS'''^^  °^  ^^'^*'  *™*^^"8^  ^O'"*.  the  women 
laden  with  burdens,  and  the  men  walking  behind  with  hands 
m  their  pockets. 

It  was  a  letter  from  Viola  that  reminded  them  of  and 
"" "T  .!?  ?t  ^Z*'*'^^'"'*  *°  ^"^  ^^'"'"g  *«""  at  Oxford. 

A  Jh.  "tu-^^  "^T^'  "^'-  ^*"y  ^^'  <=«"«  ba<^k  from 
Amenca  with  his  mother,  and  taken  the  lease  of  a  house 

m  the  Park.  He  called  to  introduce  her,  but  has  not  called 
a^in.  She  is  a  clever  woman.  I  should  say,  and  from 
what  mother  can  hear  has  learned  more  about  her  neigh- 
bours in  a  week  than  we  who  have  lived  here  for  years  " 
Kelly  back  m  England  and  with  his  mother !  And  in  Bed- 
ford Park!    This  looked  like  laying  siege  to  Viola 


imsE;^^m' 


*i^.* 


CHAPTER  VII 

IT  was  with  more  self-confidence  that  Charles  faced 
his  second  year  at  Oxford.  As  a  Freshman  he  had 
hesitated  to  assert  himself  beyond  what  might  be  con- 
sidered good  form.  Now  he  could  patronize  the  new 
Freshmen  himself,  and  as  he  drove  up  to  Canterbury  Gate 
he  fancied  the  Porter  touched  his  hat  with  more  diffidence, 
while  the  Messenger  who  brought  up  his  trunks  spoke  to 
him  with  a  respect  due  to  the  memory  and  further  hope 
of  tips. 

What  gratified  him  most  was  that  the  Dean  stopped  in 
his  stride  to  shake  hands  with  him  in  Tom  Quad. 

Kelly  was  there,  smiling  as  ever. 

"Hello,  Kell,  how  are  you?" 

"Not  too  bad,  except  that  some  fool  grippe  got  a  hold 
of  me  a  fortnight  ago.  Came  up  yesterday  to  get  accli- 
matized." 

"Anything  new?" 

"Baths,  my  boy— real  baths,  with  hot  and  cold  water. 
Talk  of  scrapping  the  old  horse-cars  and  putting  on  motor- 
buses  same  as  London.  Spanish  Duke  and  Indian  Prince 
among  the  Freshers.  Kaiser  Bill's  Best  Friend  has  left  our 
staircase  and  is  replaced  by  an  Eton  bug.  Silas  has  gone 
batty  because  Hargrove  has  put  up  an  altar  in  his  bed- 
room. Silas  says  To  'ell  with  the  Pope,'  and  if  this  means 
incense  he  11  quit  his  job  and  run  lodgings." 

"Yes,  and  about  yourself— what  does  the  Chicago  doctor 

say  ? '  *• 

"Says  I'm  a  bad  actor,  and  that  I  have  some  nerve  not 
to  be  on  my  honeymoon.  Dosed  me  with  seven  particular 
kinds  of  poison,  and  told  me  to  return  to  Europe  and  be 

good. 

"I  hear  you  have  brought  your  mother  with  you." 

85 


'^i>^li^'-'^@ti^ 


86 


DRUMS  AFAR 


pZ^'Jtth^''^^  ^'^?  rV'^'y  *°  '^^  Buckingham 

Cheese    thin  r!.  I       '  °^  ^°"^°"  ^"^  ^^  ^Id  Cheshire 
Cheese,  then  perhaps  run  over  to  Killamey  in  the  summer 

tdlyouV''  ^^'"^^^  '*°"^^^^'^  ^-  ^«  high  sXl 

3?''^V  ^°"^^  '"  Bedford  Park,  I  hear." 
l^jrst  Garden  Suburb  in  London— celebrated  art,-Qf«  o«^ 
actors  eve:y  second  house-bath-ro^  eSric  S  tele 
phone,  iwo  mmutes  from  the  station,  trains  every  thr^ 
mmutes.  twenty  minutes  from  the  Bank,  and  all  the  mcSera 
convemences-that's  what  the  house  ag^m  says  "      ^'™ 
What  does  Viola  say?" 
"Miss  Mainwaring?    Tried  to  talk  mother  into  Votes  for 

rS    "^he'o m  Yr''""  '°^^  °^  ^^  wrongtfd'o 
all  the  P^n  J      f  •  ^^^^  ^°^'  "'^^^  ^^"t  the  vote  than 
all  the  Pankhursts  m  or  out  of  Holloway  Gaol.    Believe  me 
shes  some  suffragist  and  can  put  the  kibosh  on  anv  of 
your  Antis  ms  de  of  twenty  minutes.    She'    a  prac"fsin1 

^Gtts  after  the  loan  sharks-gives  free  advice  to  the 

"I  remember  now.    You  told  me  she  was  an  attomev- 

one  of  your  women  lawyers  in  Chicago."  *«°™ey- 

Bet  your  life-Catherine  Waugh  McCulIough  has  been 

fn^'untd'sr;    ^'°T^i^-^-<i'ng  patent  a  to^y 
m  the  United  States,  another  Chicago  dame.  Eleanor  BateT 

tlX  intflu^'fT"^'  ^^^  ^^^^'-«'  -^^^tanfto 
to  a  f ffzzle  ''     -^    '"'^'  Court-they've  got  the  men  beaten 

"Like  as  not."  replied  the  American.    "They  said  when 
I  was  a  baby,  that  I  took  after  Dad  " 


DRUMS  AFAR 


87 


•'See  that  you  don't  put  it  under  the  tombstone." 
First "''  ^°*  ^°  ^^*  ^  ^''"'*'  ^'^^  ^""^  *°  S^*  ^ 

The  second  year  is  usually  the  happiest  for  the  under- 
graduate at  Oxford.  His  angles  have  been  rubbed  off  he 
knows  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it,  he  feels  that  he'fits 
jn,  and  unhke  the  third  or  fourth  year  man  is  not  shadowed 
by  the  thought  that  soon  he  must  go  down  He  pays 
paternal  calls  on  Freshers,  and  breakfasts  them  with  be- 
commg  dignity. 

Charles  continued  to  forgather  with  Frank  Mainwaring. 
They  went  down  to  the  boats  together,  had  hopes  of  get- 
ting into  the  First  Torpid,  and— particularly  Charles— went 
into  severe  training.  Jeffers  warned  him  that  this  was  a 
mistake. 

"You  will  go  stale,  old  man,  if  you  don't  let  up  a  little 
You  shouldn  t  overwork  the  human  machine  " 

Charles  however,  went  his  own  way,  running  and  San- 
dowmg  till  he  had  not  an  ounce  of  spare  flesh  left.  Ambi- 
tion spurred  him  on.  If  only  he  could  get  into  the  Eight, 
he  would  go  down  happy. 

After  the  calamity  to  the  House  in  falling  to  third  place 
m  Eights  after  heading  the  river  for  so  long,  there  seemed 
to  be  more  chance  for  men  who  had  done  well  in  Torpids 
Eveiy  one  prophesied  a  shake  up,  and  Eton  was  no  longer 
the  Open  Sesame.  Nemesis,  however,  was  inexorable  Com- 
ing down  to  the  boats  one  day  more  tired  than  usual, 
Charles  put  m  a  hard  afternoon's  tubbing  when  suddenly, 
during  a  large  spurt  before  they  put  into  the  Barge  a 
sharp  pain  tore  up  his  right  leg 

"What's  up  Fitzmorris?"  asked  Jeffers,  who  was  coach- 
mg  and  saw  his  face  go  white. 

rl.'^r/l''"?  ^u"'   '"   ™y   '*«'"   '^'^  Charles  between 
clenched  teeth,  shivering  with  a  cold  sweat 

At  the  Barge  he  had  to  be  lifted  out  of  the  boat  and 

coud  not  have  reached  his  rooms  without  support 

Looks  like  a  bad  strain,"  said  Jeffers.    "Told  you  you 


III 


MICIOCOPY   RESMUTION   TBT  CHAtT 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


/1PPLIED  IM^GE 

1653   Ea»l    Main    Stmt 

RochMttr.    tMar    York  14609        US* 

(716)   482  -  0300-  Phon. 

('18)   2BB  -  S989  -  To. 


88 


DRUMS  AFAR 


ii 

IfMR 


were  overdoing  it.  However  you  meant  well,  so  you  will 
be  forgiven  in  the  next  world  if  not  in  this." 

The  doctor  backed  up  Jeffers,  ordering  rest  for  a  week, 
and  no  more  rowing  for  at  least  a  year. 

It  was  a  bitter  blow,  for  Charles  had  set  his  heart  on 
showing  Eton  that  a  Pauline  also  could  row.  His  style 
had  been  improving,  he  was  getting  into  the  right  swing, 
when  all  of  a  sudden  out  went  his  ambition, 

"What's  the  good  of  anything?"  he  growled  to  Frank 
who  found  him  next  afternoon  disconsolately  arm-chaired. 

"You  can  at  least  yell  for  the  House,"  replied  the  latter 
cheerfully.  "Every  little  helps.  Think  of  that  Australian 
imp's  moustache.  It  saved  the  day  for  us  in  the  Third  Tog- 
ger." 

Frank  had  been  taking  sport  less  seriously,  and  was  al- 
ready shining  at  the  Union.  Charles  on  finding  himself  a 
temporary  cripple  returned  to  books  and  also  played  with 
current  politics.  Both  he  and  Frank  had  been  elected  to 
the  Twenty  Club,  a  fruit-eating  and  debating  society  the 
members  of  which  were  strictly  confined  to  Christ  Church. 
Although  less  fluent  than  Frank,  Charles  had  quite  a  turn 
for  epigram,  and  through  judicious  use  of  German  phrases 
was  able  to  pose  in  debates  on  foreign  policy  as  "one 
who  had  been  there." 

The  Union  was  certainly  a  trying  school  for  any  one  at 
all  thick-skinned.  In  the  middle  of  a  fervid  period,  mem- 
bers of  the  audience  wh<,  thought  they  had  had  enough 
entertainment  for  one  evening  would  rise  and  walk  out  of 
the  hall.  No  crime  was  greater  than  to  be  dull.  Raise 
a  laugh,  and  you  at  least  got  a  hearing,  if  only  for  three 
mmutes,  with  the  chance  that  after  a  while  you  would  be 
known  enough  to  get  a  place  upon  the  paper.  In  spite 
of  jealous  sneers,  the  Union  held  its  place  as  the  training 
ground  for  budding  orators,  who  found  here  the  schooling 
necessary  for  later  political  life.  The  shining  light  at 
the  Palmerston  or  Canning  found  that  he  shone  with  less 
effulgence  before  this  critical  audience. 

Frank  had  gone  through  his  initiation  In  the  Summer 


DRUMS  AFAR 


89 


Term,  and  already  nursed  ambitions.  He  had  joined  the 
Russell  and  a  dozen  other  clubs  with  a  view  to  office  at  the 
Union.  Canvassing  for  such  office  was  in  theory  prohibited, 
but  club  members  were  clannish  when  the  time  came  to 
vote,  and  the  wise  one  spread  his  nets  accordingly. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  term,  on  the  occasion  of  a  motion, 
"that  this  House  views  with  concern  the  growth  of  the 
German  Navy"  the  Isis  for  the  first  time  lifted  Charles 
out  of  the  list  of  those  who  "also  spoke."  He  read  the 
paragraph  a  hundred  times,  and  sent  it  to  his  father.  The 
first  words  made  him  wince,  but  it  was  good  to  see  one's 
name  in  print. 

"C.  Fitzmorris  (Ch.Ch.)  in  a  very  fair  imitation  of  the 
Balliol  manner,  defined  the  difference  between  the  British 
and  the  Gentian  navies  as  being  that  one  was  floated  on  a 
love  of  the  sea  and  the  other  on  lager  beer.  The  one 
was  a  navy  of  Invincibles,  the  other  a  navy  of  Unquench- 
ables.  The  one  was  manned  by  a  nation  of  sailors,  the 
other  by  a  race  of  swillers.  The  German  virtue  of  domes- 
ticity would  certainly  shine  in  any  naval  battle,  while  Brit- 
ish Dreadnoughts  swept  the  seas— all  the  big  and  little  Von 
der  Tanns  would  run  for  home.  The  use  of  the  Kiel  Canal 
would  then  be  revealed— it  was  an  admirable  place  in  which 
to  hide." 

Kelly  entertained  largely  at  the  Grid,  but  still  paid  close 
attention  to  his  lectures. 

"I  mean  to  get  my  money  back,"  he  explained  when 
Charles  accused  him  of  sporting  his  oak  too  early.  "I  mean 
to  make  sure  of  my  Diploma.  Tutor  thinks  me  one  com- 
plete nuisance.  He  took  a  house  two  miles  up  the  Wood- 
Stock  Road  without  a  telephone,  so  when  I  want  to  get  his 
goat  I  take  a  taxi  and  get  him  busy  on  Free  Trade  and  the 
cost  of  tea.  I  guess  when  they  come  to  examine  me  I'll 
give  them  the  dope  all  right." 

He  still,  however,  stood  faithful  to  the  old  Sunday  eve- 
ning talks,  and  though  Mackenzie  cried  off  because  of  his 
coming  Schools  Charles  was  unfailing.    Kelly  on  such  oc- 


90 


DRUMS  AFAR 


mother.  '"'^'^  '^'"*  ^'"  ^'"^'  "^^'  particularly  of  his 

n,JZ"^  ^"".r"  %P"*^  °^  ^  hundred."  he  said,  "and  she'll 
Tu  ofd""'  "  ^71^'-  ^'"^  '^^^'^  ^°  h^'-  ^  h^-P  about 
at  Christinas"'  "^^"'^  ^°"  ^^  ^^^  "'  ^  ""'^  ^'^^* 

Chlfsimas"'''"^  ^^'^^''   ^^"^  '^"""'"^  ^"°*^"  Richmond 

He  was  curious  to  meet  so  advanced  a  type  as  Mrs. 

atfvi^";;;!  J7'"  ^'Z^^^-P^^^^^^y  dogmatic  and  opinion- 

for  ;.  •rxr",'^^^^'*''"'  ^"^  y*^  ^'t^  ^  f«"^inine  taste 
for  gossip,  if  Viola's  hint  were  true 

on^^^ttrJ^'^^^u^'^  T''^^'^  ^'^  ^^'""y  that  summer 
W t-  K  ?'  at  Shenngham.  There,  in  addition  to  lower- 
ing  his  handicap  by  two,  he  saw  his  wife  cast  for  success- 

quite  rich.    The  announcement  had  been  made  in  October 
and  the  wedding  fixed  for  the  third  week  in  December 
Mrs.  Fitzmorris  believing  in  striking  the  fiance  whil^  hTwas' 

at  RicInlonTfllV^"'  ^^^'^V.  ^"^  '°  P"t  '"  ^«  appearance 
at  Richmond  before  proceeding  to  the  Kellys 

of  the  w^eddr/"'  T'  "  m'[  '°  ^^PP^'  P'^""^"S  ^^e  details 
If  Charles  had  wanted  them  at  the  ceremony.  Mr  Fitz- 
morris s  original  joy  was  tempered  by  the  flood  of  bills 

th.nv'"if^°''  '*  'J""'^^  '*'"  ^^  «'°*"«<*  to  Charles.    "But. 

?h.i    ^^T'   ^^'^  '^"  ""'^^  ^"PP«"  twice  in  my  life 
Charles,  my  boy,  do  me  a  favour?" 

"Certainly,  dad,  if  I  can." 

"There's  a  fellow  called  Jones  I  ha^•e  a  grudee  against 

l^e/hlTl  'lu'""'''''  '"^  ^'^  ^-^^tfr  an'd  lef  your 
mother  help  to  plan  the  trousseau." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AS  soon  as  the  wedding  was  dutifully  done,  Charles 
repaired  for  the  rest  of  the  Vacation  to  the  house 
of  his  American  friend. 
Mrs.  Kelly  herself  came  with  the  maid  to  wel- 
come him  at  the  door. 

"Mr.  Fitzmorris,  I  am  sure,"  she  said  pleasantly.  "Come 
right  m.  Mike  has  gone  round  to  the  Mainwarings,  but 
is  bringing  Viola  and  her  brother  round  to  lunch.  He 
wasn't  sure  which  train  you  would  come  by.  Tell  the  cab- 
man to  bring  your  grips  upstairs.  Let  me  show  you  your 
room,"  she  continued,  leading  the  way.  "The  bathroom  is 
right  alongside." 

She  spoke  with  a  soft,  almost  drawling  voice,  most  unlike 
that  of  her  son.  One  might  almost  have  taken  her  for  an 
Englishwoman,  if  there  had  not  been  a  faint  nasal  intona- 
tion. She  used  a  broad  "a"  in  the  word  "bathroom" 
whereas  Kelly  was  laughed  at  in  Oxford  for  talking  of  his 
beth,  and  she  gulped  her  final  "r's." 
Taller  than  her  son,  her  head  was  poised  on  a  grace- 
ful figure.  The  hair  was  wavy  white,  the  smooth  face  oval 
and  always  lit  up  with  a  smile. 

When  Charles  came  downstairs  she  was  rocking  in  a 
chair  at  the  open  hearth  in  a  recess  panelled  with  Austrian 
oak  and  the  same  simplicity  of  decoration  which  marked 
Kelly  s  rooms  at  Oxford  was  repeated  here.  The  room 
was  noticeably  warm,  though  the  windows  were  open  and 
the  day  raw  December. 

"We've  just  put  in  a  radiator  system,"  explained  Mrs. 
Kelly,  and  the  regulator  hasn't  found  itself  yet.  How 
pretty  the  houses  in  the  Park  are-evcry  one  with  its 
garden. 

She  spoke  the  word  "garden"  with  so  soft  a  "g"  that  it 

9« 


92 


DRUMS  AFAR 


sounded  almost  like  "gyarden"Hust  like  the  accent  of  an 
old-fashioned  aunt. 

kJJ^'^^'^.u'^?^^  "P  '"  ^"  apartment,"  continued  Mrs. 
Kelly,  for  the  last  twenty  years,  and  don't  see  flowers 
grow  except  m  the  parks.    Mike  couldn't  have  picked  out 

M;t°rT  tV'"'?^.""^  ^^''^'-  ^'^^t  do  yo"  think  of 
M,ke.?    Isnt  he  the  finest  fellow  that  ever  the  stars  shone 

"VVe  all  like  him  at  Christ  Church,"  said  Charles.    "He 
has  the  knack  of  making  friends." 

The  mother  was  evidently  pleased. 

'Tm  glad  to  see  him  well  again."  she  said.     "I  used 
to  be  scared  of  his  sleepless  nights.    He  is  all  brains,  but 
brams  need  rest.     He  has  had  only  one  real  bad  habit 
chewing  gum,  and  that  he  quit  when  he  came  to  Europe 
Won^t  you  smoke?    I'm  used  to  cigars  with  Mike  in  5ie 

All  the  time  she  knitted  and  rocked 

"o2ir!?^^°\"r?'* '?  ^"F"'^  ^^y^  y^'-"  ^'^^^  Charles. 
Quicker  than  Mike,  I  reckon,"  she  answered.    "They  re- 
mind me  of  my  old  home  when  I  was  a  girl-I  was  raised 
!;!.   iIT'f  •^"1*'"'^  "'"^  *°  ^'^^SO  later.    There's  right 

back  m   Richmond-that  is   Richmond,   Virginia.     Your 
own  home  is  in  the  English  Richmond,  is  it  not?" 

Just  then  Kelly  was  heard  at  the  gate,  and  Mrs.  Kelly 
rose  to  greet  the  Mainwarings.  ^ 

U-ZZ^xr  7^^*.^?.y?"  a"  been  doing?"  she  said  as  she 
kissed  Vio  a.    "Isn't  it  just  fine  of  you  to  come  round." 

Fitz,  old  man."  said  Mike.  "I  rang  up  to  find  whether 
you  were  coming  a.  m.  or  p.  m..  but  your  line  was  busy. 
Glad  to  see  you  haven't  waited  to  be  introduced  to  Mother 
Isn  t  she  a  wonder  ?" 

"Mike  dear."  said  Mrs.  Kelly,  "I  rely  on  you  to  keep  Mr 
Fitzmorns  posted  on  my  virtues.  In  the  meanwhile  you 
all  please  excuse  me.  I  must  attend  to  the  salad  and  other 
mysteries  of  the  kitchen.  I  like  to  keep  my  eye  on  the  cook 
when  she  tries  her  hand  on  Southern  dishes." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


93 


Some  eye!    said  Kelly  with  a  laugh  as  she  went  out. 

Although  the  meal  was  less  elaborate  than  some  of  Kelly's 
Cbcford  menus,  it  was  exquisitely  cooked  and  served,  and 
Charles  surmised  the  parentage  of  this  once  puzzling  trait 
m  his  American  friend. 

Unless  there  was  cause  to  look  elsewhere,  Mrs  Kelly's 
eyes  hung  on  Mike,  and  any  one  could  see  that  she  was 
wrapped  up  m  her  son.  The  conversation  veered  from  the 
weather  to  the  English  home  as  compared  to  the  American, 
and  from  that  to  the  part  a  woman  plays  in  the  household 
of  to-day.  , 

"Women."  said  Mrs.  Kelly,  "are  their  own  worst  ene- 
mies, and  drown  themselves  with  their  own  millstones  They 
forget  that  the  restaurant  can  serve  at  least  one  meal  a 
day " 

"That's  a  hint  to  us,  Fitz,"  said  Mike. 

"And  take  no  exercise  except  at  a  bargain  sale.  Their 
lives  are  swamped  by  their  families,  and  they  work  six- 
teen hours  out  of  the  twenty-four  for  no  better  wage  than 
food  and  bed  and  clothing.  Viola  dear,  if  ever  you  marry, 
see  that  your  husband  pays  you  a  salary  over  and  above 
your  household  allowance,  and  insist  on  overtime." 

I'An  eight  hour  day?"  asked  Mike. 

"Sure  enough,  eight  to  eight,  with  four  hours  free  in 
the  afternoon.  Of  course  another  way  is  to  have  a  divi- 
sion of  profits,  but  I  recommend  a  salary." 

"With  a  month's  notice,"  added  Mike. 

"So  you  believe  in  Suffrage?"  said  Charles. 

"The  vote,"  said  the  old  lady,  "is  the  least  of  the  things 
that  women  want,  and  not,  I  reckon,  the  cure-all  that  Viola 
thinks.  What  we  need  is  equal  opportunity  with  men- 
let  them  beat  us  in  the  race  if  they  can,  and  let  us  beat 
them  if  we  can— but  don't  hang  unwashed  dishes  round  our 
necks  and  clothes  to  mend  and  children  to  bring  up." 

"From  these  few  remarks,"  interrupted  Kelly,  "you  can 
picture  my  youth." 

"Mike,"  said  his  mother,  "you  were  a  perfect  child— no 
trouble  at  all— I  speak  in  general.    I  for  instance  was  one 


94 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I  had  not  a»r«.,<  ;„  .^'X  '^°"'^'"'  Mike,  if  your  father  and 
»he  qj,:'  Sy  Ll'at^d  toT'l"'  '^r  "^  husband," 

our  marriage,    ffi  whv  7  Lh!  ''    '*"  >"""  »''=■• 

studied  law  "    ""'  '^  «''■>'  I  had  to  earn  my  own  living  and 

trains  used  to  wake  up  SseS^s  f v^,"  ?r?'"  ""c'!"' 
twenty  minutes  for  divorce  ">^        ^'"^   °"''^«°'  ^''- 

^^r  ^^■-  >  '^  "-^^oK-rrLTtS: 

Ei^land  wSoufr  vT,;;^caJ  n  '"  ^''^  "="■  ^•«  '" 
broken  promises."  ""  """  e«'  »"ything  but 

yo;;'^:!Jd"^^,t:uVwa;wiLur**%^"''°^^^  ^  *'■* 

and  revolutions.    No  Zbt  Vlf^c-     1  •''  ^^'  ^"^  "^^^'"^ 

who  suffer  and  weep  "  ^     ^      ^*  '^  ^^  "women 

.xSetcer'^rTl^'en;^""^  "^'  '^'-"^''  "^  *«  ^'P* 

the  capacity  of  the  hus^n^rm  t  Ity"?"''  "  "'* 

Man  and  wife  are  narfnA^o  >        i-    ",.^y- 
i«!  «»vn*,.f         K      •       P^""«rs,      cphed  his  mother     "Shp 

^d'r  u™ctDs'l:t"?  *"f™'  -« "» "- 

self.    She  won  her  hustendl  aff^'r  '"?"  """' '"  •■"- 
chann  .et  us  say  of  ^^^^^I^^J^^ 


DRUMS  AFAR 


95 


to  be  bramwork,  and  she  must  keep  up  with  him  if  they 
are  to  remam  on  a  level.     The  generous  husband  makes 

^-^ufuT.u'^^f'    ?''''''°"  °^  P^'^fits  is  perhaps  in  theory 
right,  but  the  salary  basis  keeps  the  wife  busy.    An  angel 

^/"''Vi,^^^''^"'  '^  ^P*  t°  si"S  only  one  tune."  ' 

Mrs.  Kely  was  certainly  a  born  hostess.    Though  less 
indifferent  to  food  than  he  had  been  in  his  own  home, 
Charles  was  still  a  tyro  in  the  mysteries  of  taste.    Breakfast 
now.  with  Its  feather-weight  muffins,  its  hot  biscuits   its 
corncakes  or  pones  and  bacon  fried  with  apples  and  other 
palatable  mixtures  became  a  meal  worth  getting  up  for     If 
mdeed  he  was  lazy  after  a  late  night,  Mrs.  Kelly  herself 
would  knock  at  the  door  and  bring  in  a  tray  with  a  toddy, 
saying    This  will  kind  of  open  your  eyes  before  you  take 
your  bath."    Then  her  fried  chicken  with  corn  fritters  and 
scalloped  celery,  her  creamed  oysters  and  her  baked  ham 
were  poems     In  salads  she  professed  less  skill  but  she 
had  one  perfect  salad  made  of  pineapple  and  a  soft  red 
cheese  with  chopped  red  peppers  sunk  in  a  bed  of  shredded 

Tu'u  u  "  ^^'  ^^^'"^^  ^"^  ^«r  Christmas  cake,  her 
syllabubs,  her  mince  pies  and  the  roast  turkey  with  the 
chestnut  stuffing  that  they  shared  with  the  Mainwarings 
on  Christmas  Day  were  food  for  the  gods 

All  tlae  time  she  spent  in  the  kitchen,'  she  sang  or 
hummed  old  darkie  songs  in  a  low  sweet  ve:ce 

Just  hsten  to  that."  Mike  would  say,  stopping  a  con- 
versation with  he!d-up  finger.  "That's  Mother  again,  sing- 
mg  her  old  head  off.  ^      '     ^ 

n,3r.''^1/,°"  ^""^'T'^^  yo""elf  away  from  here?"  said 
L,har]es  to  Mike  one  day. 

He  understood  now  the  strategy  of  bringing  Mrs.  Kelly 
to  England.  Between  the  English  girl  with  her  restful  en^ 
vironment  and  the  dynamic  Chicago  lawyer  was  a  great 

Sik  tf-  ^'^'  ^?.^  '''^'''^  '^'  P'-^J"^'^^^  Viola  must 
s^nk  before  she  could  accept  the  intimate  relationship  of 
marriage  and  had  brought  his  mother,  with  her  domesticity 

umiltll'^  1r  f  "^"T' ''  '"^^^  L-^-  -^  tile 

Middle  West.    If  such  a  mother  could  love  and  live  with 


96 


DRUMS  AFAR 


M  \  '°;',«"^«^y  that  son  could  husband  such  a  wife 

Most  subtle  was  the  spell  that  Mrs.  Kelly's  kitchen  cast 

upon  V.ola,  who  began  by  coming  over  to  pul    taSy  or 

maple  candy  and  to  make  marsh-mallows.    Then  she  asked 

to  exnbh  -fh'^  n' '^I'T  ^°  ^°°'^'  -  invitaUonTa  y 
mtnrJi  .  u  ''°°'^./"  ^*  ^^">^  household  was  a  good- 
sen?  th.  nT  °  T^^  '°  '"^">^  °^  ^^^  J^'"d  did  not  re- 
sent the  intrusion  of  the  mistress  into  her  kitchen.    Indeed 

cookLTio  "'.'  '""""'  *°  ^^^™  *^  ^"^'^^  «f  American 
cooking,  for  she  meant  to  emigrate  as  soon  as  she  could 

moled'in' Amfricr^^'  '"'  "^"^  "^"^^  ^^^  '"^^^  - 
To  Mike  the  kitchen  was  his  element.    He  had  the  theory 
which  his  mother  could  put  into  the  actual  cooking    S 
ing  could  keep  him  out,  particularly  when  Viola  was  there 

^yZ::f^ '''  *^  'r  "^^^^^  °^  *^^  "-t  whirgradu^ 

.^agitffreTd"  ^'"^'^^  ^^^^^-^'  ^^-"^  '^»  - 
Food  however  was  not  their  only  pastime.    Keen  on  social 

of'STdon^'^H  ""'"^  '^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^-P'^^  the  unders  de 
of  London,  and  was  as  eager  as  any  to  attend  the  socialist 

and  suffrage  lectures  for  which  the  Mainwarings  enthTsed 
Where  are  you  all  going?"  she  would  say  when  thev 
came  round  and  told  Mike  and  Charles  to  puPon  thSr 
coats,  and  then.  "Look  here.  Mike,  you  just  go  and  tale 
me  with  you."  and  with  them  she  went 

kno^r  p",/^'\^''o  *°  *^^  ^^"y^  that  Charles  got  to 
know  the  Fellowship  Settlement  for  Working  Men     Here 

su^prisf^rlt  r^-^^1  '^^  ^.^  Resident!  waThis'^fi:" 
surprise     True,  but  a  single  combination  roo-i— a  sittinjr- 

hdd"   bed   T:V''''  ^"^^^'"^  ^^^^^-"^  '^^  --     hft 
held  a  bed— but  the  room  was  large  and  airy  with  cheerfnl 

hearth  and  comfortable  arm-chairf.  while  th^  «n7oom 

with  Its  substantial  meals  had  the  tone  and  stvle  of  an 

exclusive  club.    An  excellent  library,  a  good  piano  in  the 

drawing-room,  and  the  recherche  collection  of  prints  upon 

he  walls  seemed  a  good  deal  to  throw  in  with  board  and 

lodging  for  thirty-five  shillings  a  week.    But  it  was  ex- 


I 

3 

I 
I 
I 

■i 


DRUMS  AFAR  gy 

plained  that  by  such  influences  it  was  hoped  to  uplift  the 
working  classes  and  the  moral  effect  of  Rembrandt  on  the 
factory  hand  was  plausibly  expounded. 

By  this  time  it  was  fashionable  to  be  a  Fabian,  Bernard 
bhaw  was  the  darling  of  the  Times,  and  Sidney  Webb  at 
the  London  School  of  Economics  was  whispering  policies 
to  the  Cabinet. 

Kelly  laughed  at  them  but  Frank  persuaded  Charles  to 
join  the  crowd.  When  he  subscribed  to  the  forms  of  this 
mild  Socialist  Societ.  Charles  ran  little  risk  of  having 
his  door  screwed  up  at  Oxford.  Even  had  he  become  a 
follower  of  Keir  Hardie,  he  might  have  escaped  that  fate 
for  he  was  a  well-built  fellow  known  to  be  a  good  boxer' 
and  your  undergraduate  bully  hesitates  to  attack  those  who 
can  hit  back  hard. 

When  Charles  then  signed  himself  a  Socialist,  this  merely 
meant  that  he  was  honest,  warm-hearted  and  unselfish  It 
meant  that  he  had  come  to  feel  he  was  a  citizen,  not  just 
Charles  Fitzmorris  spending  five  hundred  pounds  a  year 
to  pass  the  time.  He  had  sensed  his  responsibilities— he 
was  no  more  a  boy  who  went  to  school  because  he  was 
told ;  he  was  a  man,  ready  to  take  his  place  in  the  State 

Naturally  his  theories  had  some  effect  upon  his  actions 
when  he  returned  to  Oxford.    He  was  more  conside-   te  tn 
Silas,  whom  he  had  been  hitherto  inclined  to  buUv    and 
changed  his  tailor  when  he  found  that  individual  was  not 
on  the  white  list  of  those  who  paid  a  living  wage  to  the., 
employes.    He  spoke  with  less  contempt  of  Toshers,  tho^ 
much  misunderstood  unfortunates  who  have  mistaken  0> 
ford  for  a  seat  of  learning  instead  of  a  social  centre,  ano 
tor  lack  of  funds  have  joined  the  University  without  belong- 
ing to  a  College.    He  took  his  work  more  seriously,  feeling 
that  he  ought  if  possible  to  earn  his  living  instead  of 
sponging  on  his  father  longer  than  could  be  helped. 

That  thought  caused  him  indeed  heart-burning.  He  began 
to  wonder  whether  his  father's  money  was  earned  by  hon- 
est work,  or  merely  from  a  parasite  profession  which  had 
no  right  to  exist  at  all.    When  he  came  to  study  things 


98 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Is    I 


^  ., 


ofZ  n?  9"'-<^5.'tse  f  was  founded  on  the  spoliation 
of  the  monasteries  which  in  turn  had  tithed  the  people  for 
a  not  very  worthy  priesthood.  ^ 

Yet  in  spite  of  its  tainted  origin  would  it  have  been 
so^fine  or  would  it  have  been  built  at  all  under  a  SocialS 

Kelly  said  no. 

th7^^h'^  "'"^  '*°"^''"  ^^  ^'^^^'  "^^"^^  ^rom  the  time  when 
the  labourer  was  not  a  politician  but  an  artist.  He  mav 
have  taken  an  eight  hour  night,  but  even  in  the  „S 

tr^.'^'^'^  '^1  ^°'^  ^'  ^^^  ^y  ^^y-    Look  at  that    fn- 

IL??.!.  u*^'  ''^'r^'^  '^"^^"^  t°  «^«  H^".  and  tell  me 
what  labour-boss  could  have  betrered  that " 

While  keenly  interested  in  social  remedies  Kelly  was  a 
strong  mdividualist.  ^ 

the' w!i'J^  "?'','  ^'  '^'^  ''"^  ^^y-  "^  *^^«  off  'ny  hat  to 
the  walkmg  delegate  who  earns  good  money  in  his  high- 
priced  pro  ession--but  not  my  money  if  I  can  help  it. 
Organized  labour  is  just  as  tyrannical  as  a  Trust,  and  a 
damn  sight  less  human.  It  boosts  the  skallywag  ;nd  the 
malingerer  into  the  same  pay  as  the  hundred  per  cent  effi- 
cient. There's  more  graft  to  the  square  inch  in  a  Brother- 
hood^ than  there  is  in  Tammany  Hall,  and  that's  going 

"Of  course,"  said  Charles,  "your  political  conditions  are 
different  from  ours.    With  us  the  very  best  men  go  into 
the  House  of  Commons-it  is  a  family  tradition." 
fJu  *^7.,"f^^'se,"  said  Kelly,  "they  will  keep  it  in  the 

Stwl"    '  ""•    ''  ''''  ^  '^"'^'  ^^"*^  *°  -"^-» 
"But  some  of  your  younger  leaders  are  almost  Social- 

"No  wonder!  If  they  have  any  heart  they  must  hate  to 
see  one  third  of  the  population  too  poor  for  meat  or  but- 
ter, and  Socialism  seems  one  way  out.  In  middle  age  they 
grow  cynical  and  work  for  themselves.    But  even  Uien  if 


DRUMS  AFAR  ^ 

they  are  to  be  successful  in  politics  they  must  be  with  the 
dear  people  once  in  a  while  " 

ner^'iSn^^^^^^^^^  ^l^'^'''  '"  ^''  ^''  U"'°"  man- 
ner,  m  the  United  States,  where  your  measure  of  happiness 

n.n  "f  °"/«"^«'  and  where  most  of  your  money  s 
paper,  there  does  not  appear  to  be  enough  to  go  roundTour 
mnety  million  population,  especially  as  you  bring  in  a  m"l 

T^OIa     .,V^°".t  th'nk  that  your  overstrung,  overfed  over- 

cu  theTr  fr"'''  ^^°  T''  ^  '^PP>'  -*'o"t  thefr  mini 
cure,  their  face-massage,  their  private  cars  and  their  sixtv 

Sn^^^Th  'r  f  ^^T"^"*  ^^^  height'of  human^^^^^^ 
tection.  The  Land  of  Liberty  has  become  a  hothouse  of 
abnormal  growth,  and  until  some  virile  nation  such  as  the 
Japanese-ni:>.ety  per  cent  of  whom  are  workers  work  n^ 
for  the  glory  of  their  race— lets  in  the  fr^.h  .7-  JJ^?'"S 
you  back  ,0  ft,  hardy  Ufe  of'^S  ;i:„«ff„^eiaftersTou 

t^rll't"  ?°'^  f  ■''""'y  «t"n..ed  to  the  siege  of  Viola 
.^on^t"*?  "S*  I««''«''d  Charles  to  spend  that  vlca- 
TZ^^  *""  ■"  ^^™  '»<*  Vtrs^Uk,,  receiv^  fetterl  from 
H    hatToire^thrM''.'^?  "'"™«  '°  Kelly's  acrivWr 

and  s:t  sixi^ith^^rforthrsLr  sfT 

"her  IT"  ^eT^J  t'^'  *--J-  ^'  Sie-^f  feu 
because  ;Lf.u  ?uT    '    °^  ^^^'^"'^  '^«  ^«ally  cared  but 

£iL£f:p--ri„-rp.irr-! 

uch  i""e°ef""Tf'h  "^'  ^'"='  ^'"f"S'«  Matiees  to 
gyC'^'thrSStelt^a^re^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 


lOO 


DRUMS  AFAR 


the  great  Conde,  and  immersed  in  the  writings  of  Vauban 
on  the  siege  and  defence  of  fortresses,  decided  that  all  the 
Marshals  of  France  in  the  palmiest  days  of  the  great  Louis 
would  have  had  something  to  learn  from  the  perseverance 
and  ingenuity  of  this  Irish  American  as  he  beleaguered  the 
heart  of  Viola. 

Gallantly  though  she  resisted,  Viola  must  at  last  have 
raised  the  white  flag,  for  when  the  summer  term  came 
round  Frank  confirmed  his  sister's  engagement. 


luban 
II  the 
a>uis 
'ance 
ithe 

have 
came 


I 


CHAPTER  IX 

AS  soon  as  he  heard  the  news.  Charles  chased  after 
Kelly  to  congratulate  him.  The  American's  rooms 
^ere  empty  but  he  was  found  in  Tom  Quad  on 

under  his'anl^^  '""^  '''  ^^  ""'  ^^  ^'^^  ^  ^^  °^  ^^^-s 

AtT'!'  T°^1."'^"/"  ^^  '^•^'  "'t'^  f^e-    I  won  out  after  all 
At  first  I  thought  some  other  fellow  had  the  inside  track 

Yrsri°t;??"^.^  ^'.^  T.^  '^  "^-p  outThe  h^j::': 

I         f.    i  "  *  exactly  look  like  gilt-edged  stock    anH 
aollars  to  me  the  first  time  I  saw  her— Enriand  certainlv 

"When  is  the  fatal  day?" 
T  "^?^//^l  ^F°  '°^"-    ^e*"  mother  said  December  but 

hrPdl  i^nV"'^-  k'^^*  *°  "°^'  «^  *^«  honeymrn  ifore 
toe  Fall  and  get  busy  earning  the  rent.     Say,  Fitz    old 

an^re^latr' "^  °"  ^°"  *°  ^"^  ™^  ^^  ^°  ^''  th^'n^- 
be  in"hthT  ''^'"  "•'  ^'"^"-    "'^  *^^  — ny  to 

me  ?ext*1n'?  ^'"*m  *^''.  ^">'-     M°ther-in-law-to-be  put 

^y  w?A   ar«  fee7  h'~^"'"u^  °^  *^^   family-Social  is 
nnL  ,  r    .^!    .  *  '^''°  preaches  hell  in  Bedford  Park— 

^''wHl^'X^fu  r'^^  ''''^'  '"^''"<^^  to  do  the  trick" 
What  ,s  he  like?    Got  a  black  beard?" 

inat  s  him.    A  good  scout  from  the  looks  of  him." 

mei  EiltT  wT  ^''"-    ^'"  ^  '^''^'"  '^^^  Charles. 
K-J»L  f"    ^5^  ^^'^  ''*"'«  '•ound.  Viola  arrived  with  Mrs 

in^  'rs^ftThXr '''  "^^^'^^  '"^•^^ "  '^^- 

th.  ..k^.         «  *  '  *^  """«  ""o  i"  eyes,  and  thouirh 

lOI 


I02 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 


indefinable  air  of  femininity  enveloped  her,  and  there  was 
not  a  man  that  met  her  who  did  not  think  Kelly  fortunate 
to  win  this  attractive  girl. 

"Everything  seems  gay  this  year,"  she  said.  "Aren't 
there  more  people  here?  The  streets  are  parasol'd  and  the 
High  looks  like  a  garden  party.  Oh  yes,  of  course,  last 
year  we  followed  the  King's  funeral," 

"And  this  year  we  approach  the  wedding  of  the  Prin- 
cess," said  Charles. 
"Which  Princess?"  she  asked,  as  if  puzzled 
'Princess  Viola,"  said  Charies,  "the  Princess  of  Mike 
Kelly  s  fairytale,  whom  he  crossed  the  sea  to  win  and  woo, 
and  with  whom  he  hopes  to  live  happy  ever  after." 
"And  you,"  she  said,  "imagine  you  are  the  Good  Fairy?" 
One  of  them,"  he  admitted  modestly. 
"And  pray,  who  was  the  Dragon?" 
"There  were  dozens  of  them,"  said  Chari:s.    "All  your 
prejudices,  your  craving  for  independence " 

x/'^^ifP,?"^*"'^*  ^^y  '*  o"*"  Day  of  Days,"  interrupted 
Mrs.  Kelly.  "Do  not  think  you  have  killed  the  Dragons. 
You  have  only  turned  them  into  House  Dogs  who  will  bark 
now  instead  of  bite." 

In  order  to  distract  Mrs.  Kelly's  attention,  Charles  spent 
these  days  m  being  most  gallant  towards  that  lady.  He 
had  roses  for  her  every  morning,  and  kept  her  talking  to 
him  so  that  Mike  and  Viola  could  have  uninterrupted  tcte-d- 
tete.  Mrs.  Kelly,  as  her  son  declared,  was  "chock  full  of 
talk  and  had  conversation  just  wrapped  up  in  her"  and 
was  '  peeved  to  death"  when  she  was  left  alone.  Charies 
got  her  to  tell  him  about  life  in  the  United  States,  and  thus 
heard  something  of  the  complex  problems  of  that  heteroge- 
neous nation.  * 

With  marriage  so  much  in  the  air,  it  was  natural  that 
Mrs.  Kelly  should  incline  to  dilate  thereon.  Charies  raised 
the  question. 

"What  about  mixed  marriages— I  mean  between  Ameri- 
cans and  English— don't  you  think  there  is  a  risk?' 
"I'd  just  hate  to  tie  myself  down  on  that,"  replied  Mrs 


'?" 


DRUMS  AFAR  103 

Kelly.    ''If  the  man  is  American  and  the  woman  English, 
there  .s  less  chance  of  friction  than  the  other  way  round 

woLn"fI'p   TT"  ^'^  T'^  ^^^P^^*^'^  than  American 
women  or  English  men.  and  accustom  themselves  to  a  new 
country  more  readily.    An  American  who  brings  home  an 
English  bnde  is  thought  to  ha  .e  done  tall,  and  usually  with 
good  reason.    She  brings  up  her  children  with  better  man- 
ners than  most  American  mothers.    Although  at  first  lone- 
some lor  her  old  home,  she  is  attracted  by  our  readiness 
to  make  fnends^    But  in  the  American  home  there  T   the 
question  of  maids.    The  American  woman  has  to  do  more 
housework  than  the  English^ /oman  of  the  same  class  be- 
cause maids  are  scarce  with  us,  and  mighty  independent. 
Clothes  cost  more,  and  we  pay  more  heed  to  fashions  in 
dress     Whatever  she  wears  in  her  kitchen,  you'll  find  out 
hat  the  poorest  American  woman  dresses  as  a  very  stylish 
rJu^'  ^"S['«h^o™an  in  the  States  soon  realizes  this, 
and  If  her  husband  can't  aflFord  her  a  shipload  of  new 
clothes,  she  feels  very  unhappy.    As  a  rule,  however,  the 
American  husband  feels  just  the  same  as  she  does,  so  that 
she  gets  all  she  wants  if  he  has  to  kill  himself  to  raise  the 
money.     On  the  other  hand,  the  American  woman  over 

HtI?H^7J"''  5  !="'r^^''' ^»™«  ^t  "taking  glory  and  meeting 
titled  folk,  and  if  her  English  husband  doesn't  give  her  a 
hand  he  just  gets  left  behind." 
"Glad  I'm  not  engaged  to  an  American  girl,"  said  Charles. 
I  ve  go  enough  'climbers,'  as  you  call  them,  in  my  own 
family  already.  But  don't  you  misjudge  your  own  people? 
Are  you  a  climber,  for  instance?  If  you  have  been  run- 
ning after  titles  since  you  came  to  England.  I  haven't  noticed 

Mrs.  Kelly  laughed. 

"Perhaps  you  are  right.   One  shouldn't  generalize.    There 
are  Americans  and  Americans." 
The  boatraces  naturally  took  them  to  the  House  Baree 

Lhurch  Eight  keep  its  place  while  Christ  Church  II  actually 


104 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I  < 

1  ^ 

I  I 

i; 

i  3 


■I   : 


went  up  from  the  Second  to  the  First  Division.    But  most 
of  Aeir  time  was  spent  in  going  round  the  Colleges. 

f;„,i''  "'V-'^  ,^"?  °^  '^^^  anything  historic  for  some 

time,    evplamed  Viola.    "Mike  says  that  in  Chicago  eve^! 

thing  .vc    ten  years  old  is  out  of  date."  ^       ^ 

He  probably  means  'falling  to  pieces/  »  said  Charles. 

Kel^  "W  'I  "°'  ^^]  *H  ^"''"^  S*^t«'"  '•^'narked  Mrs. 
our  $;  .  ^*  ^T  ^^^^  ^""^^"^^  ^^^'^  ^  <=«ntury  old,  and 
Z  1  T^f '*°^  ^*  Richmond  is  only  twenty  yea7s  younger 
than  the  Library  at  Christ  Church.  I  allow  you  wmlfd 
more  customs  that  date  from  Queen  Elizabeth^  ^gfnif 
than  you  will  find  in  London.  The  mistake  made  ^th^ 
English  who  visit  and  write  about  us  is  that  they  do  not 

t'o  manv  an  l"''  *''"  ^-^'"^^-^  whereas  w7si:;ngton 
to  many  an  Amencan  is  the  Farthest  North  " 

How  do  you  like  leaving  England?"  Charles  asked  Viola 
one  day  as  they  sauntered  along  the  High 

I  look  upon  it  as  a  great  adventure,"  she  replied  "We 
all  have  just  one  life  to  live,  and  if  we  don't  maKe  most 
of  It  we  have  ourselves  to  blame.    I  could  keep  on  veg^ta  - 

wLt^^e  th^ttid^^  ""^'^"^'  •'^  ^^^^ '-  -<^'  - 

"Will  you  keep  up  your  art  ?" 

uSa^^^  "°*Ii-  ^'^^  ^^'  promised  me  a  studio  in  Chicago 
and  as  a  wedding  present  has  bought  me  a  library  of  S 

work  brkbl~*'''Tv'^""'^   ^'^^^'    ^"™'^"^«'    "^etal 
work,  bookbinding  and  what  not.    He  says  I  can  learn  iust 

as  much  over  there  as  here,  and  that  I  should  think  oTch 

WS  TshTs^'T"/  ™'"  "^^^^^  J^P-  than  lldoi^. 
well,  I  shall  soon  find  out-it  is  all  part  of  the  game     He 

offered  to  make  his  home  in  England  if  I  would^noTmarry 
h  m  w,thout,  but  that  would  not  have  been  fair  to  Wm 
as  his  work  is  over  there." 
"And  your  heart?" 

in'h' ^'^.'/l^**  '''  ^^'''"'"  '^^  '^'^'  linking  her  arm 

d^  not  tak^M-r  ''-''i  ^''^  '"^^^^  »^^lf  '"  ^-".  -n<i 
1  did  not  take  Mike  seriously  myself  at  first,  but  you  did 

the  greatest  thing  in  the  world  for  me  when  you  brougM 


DRUMS  AFAR  105 

us  two  together.     Honestly  I  don't  care  just  at  present 

with  Mike ''^'"^'"  ^"  ^"^''^  °'  "°*"    ^"  ^  "^^"^  "^"^  ''  *°  ^ 
"He's  one  of  the  best,"  said  Charles  thrilling  at  her 
touch.      And  so  too,  I  think,  is  his  mother  " 

"She  is  mother  to  me  also,"  said  Viola  softly.  "I  won't 
feel  so  lonely  with  her  to  help  me  over  there.  She  has 
been  my  best  friend  ever  since  we  met.  I  never  realized 
before  how  little  separates  Americans  and  English." 

They  went  to  Godstow  again  on  another  moonlight  night. 
With  Viola  more  sentimental  than  the  year  before  This 
time  she  and  Mike  floated  downstream  side  by  side  in  a 
punt  instead  of  cross-questioning  each  other  face  to  face 
in  a  canoe.  There  was  light  enough  to  see  that  Mike  had 
his  arm  around  her  waist,  and  she  looked  up  in  his  face 
from  time  to  time  in  a  way  that  showed  she  was  no 
longer  concerned  about  the  unknown  past.  Her  thought 
was  only  for  the  present,  an  idyll  of  rapturous  young  love 
m  which  two  hearts  beat  as  one  in  the  warm  air  of  a 
summer  night. 

"Isn't  it  queer,"  said  Charles  to  Frank,  "to  see  otherwise 
sensible  people  looking  into  each  other's  faces  like  sick  cats' 
I  almost  wish  sometimes  I  hadn't  thought  of  bringing  them 
together. 

"Don't  worry,  old  chap."  replied  Frank.  "You'll  look  just 
as  foolish  yourself  some  day.  After  all,  it's  not  so  bad 
as  delirium  tremens," 

This  love-making  began  to  have  its  effect  on  Charles,  who 
could  not  forget  what  Frau  Pastorin  had  said  about  h.s 
lack  of  sentiment.  He  longed  for  the  day  when  he  should 
be  ab  e  to  claim  a  Viola  of  his  own.  How  was  it  that 
the  other  fellows  all  paraded  photographs  of  girls  not 
their  sisters,  while  he  could  only  muster  obviously  paid 
for  pictures  of  actresses  he  never  knew?  If  only  his  own 
sisters  had  not  been  so  impossible,  he  m-ght  have  got  to 
know  more  girls,  but  Qara's  friends  were  hopeless 

the  rrL\%''*^'^'"^  i*^  ^'"  ^^"^  ^°'  J">y'  *«  soon  after 
the  great  Suffrage  Procession  and  the  Coronation  as  dress- 


I  -■•: 


io6 


DRUMS  AFAR 


makers  could  be  persuaded  to  promise  her  trousseau 
Charles  spent  the  time  till  tl.en  dreaming  of  the  d^y  X 

leged  to  act  as  best  man,  on  the  condition  that  some  day 
WricLTome.  ^"^  '''  '"'^  ^"'  '""'^''^^  ^  ^^«' 


CHAPTER  X 


AFTER  the  marriage  neariy  three  months  still  re- 
mained of  the  Long  Vacation,  and  Frank  Mainwar- 
ing  urged  Paris.  Charies  who  suspected  that  Frank 
was  thinking  more  of  art-galleries  than  of  history, 
however,  said  that  another  dose  of  German  would  do  him 
more  good.  This  time  he  would  go  to  the  Rhine,  and  see 
for  himself  whether  it  was  as  German  as  the  Germans 
claimed.  By  this  time  he  was  absorbed  in  the  Special 
Period  selected  for  his  Final  Schools,  more  particulariy 
in  the  character  and  times  of  Louis  the  Magnificent.  Col- 
bert had  established  the  sovereignty  of  France  upon  the 
New  Worid,  but  in  the  Old  World  also  Louis  had  ambi- 
tions, aligning  his  borders  with  those  of  the  Roman  Gaul. 
Strasburg,  that  apple  of  discord  between  France  and  Ger- 
many, would,  Charies  thought,  be  a  good  centre  from  which 
to  study  historical  geography. 

"No  Germany  for  me,"  protested  Frank,  "This  Agadir 
business  is  the  last  straw.  Why  should  we  spend  our 
money  in  a  country  with  so  little  sense  of  decency?  Give 
them  a  taste  of  the  boycott." 

"Nice  sentiment  from  a  Socialist  who  has  preached  to 
me  the  brotherhood  of  man,"  said  Charies. 

"The  Germans  are  no  more  than  seventh  cousins  to  the 
human  race." 

"The  French,  on  the  other  hand,  are  very  pretty  sisters," 
said  Charles.  "If  only  we  had  met  a  suitable  Margaretha 
last  summer  at  Gottingen,  you  would  have  sold  your  patriot- 
ism to  the  devil." 

A  year  ago  Charles  had  thought  a  trip  to  Germany  real 
adventure,  and  had  come  back  inclined  to  put  on  airs. 
"When  I  was  in  Germany,"  he  would  say  in  any  argu- 
ment with  the  less  travelled. 

107 


[■Hi 


io8 


DRUMS  AFAR 


je  .a...  on  ^.e  ^"l^-jr 'S  ^^  S,- 

not  be  felt  i  much  if  A,^'/  T""  """*  '  ?»'•  "o-W 

But  neither  1  the  OsUdXr  ""'  "I*  ^  P*"''<^'»'- 
express  appeared  the  .m^L  ^V  T  ""  "«  <^ontinental 
tempted  a  Kion  Thr  Tt'l?.  f'  "'•°  ™«'"  •«« 
enabled  hi.  S'^use^a  rx^S^^U-^i"  f-'l?'* 
very  moment  he  swayed  betw^  k' .    •  *"""  *»' 

surprise  at  the  stomS  r,f  ,l"^j  '"",'  "'"ories  and 
had  looked  for  a^UaToM  „  L'"?"""''  ^"™"J'-  He 
the  Octagl  of  ChlrLlZ°:'1  "'5'.'°™ -^entrKl  ™und 
the  modem  Aachen  that  hfi?,    '""I*™!  Ch'-'-ch,  whereas 

Cologne  he  had  drimeS  „f  a"  a^lL^'r/'^'"''^  "'^• 
cloistered  churches    but  th,  Ji        Cathedral,  circled  by 

that  he  got  losUn  it  L  V  '.''""^  """•"  «'«  «>  'arg* 
was  of  cS!  is    nd  ;;o:d:51ST'ttT'  "■!  'k''  ""« 

to  CoblL™wrsXll  wiA  rt'^?"^'  ffom  Konigswinter 
har^s  the  hilKidt"wrsc::^'X"?es'™'"^  '■•'^' 
Rhi^e"ilt;m'ar'  "'  """'  ""  ^  ^^'^'^  '""-*.  "The 

industry,  reZS^eica3,he?l"'  *"'?.'*«'  ""^  ■"'"'«™ 
a-  he  hioked  k>A  on  thJ  L'^"?/'*"'  '""*  "'  ^ingen. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


109 


ncrs  and  some  little  education,  proud  of  being  German  but 
glad  they  were  not  Prussian. 

They  had  been  infected  by  the  movement  which  filtered 
through  Germany  from  Vienna,  and  had  transformed  old 
German  homes  into  very  arty  show-rooms.  The  chairs  and 
furniture  of  the  dining  room  were  designed  in  curious 
green  curves,  the  walls  were  panelled  with  rough  plaster 
tmted  mauve  and  subdivided  by  lines  of  purple  spots.  In 
each  panel  blazed  a  violent  landscape.  A  yellow  carpet 
and  red  lacquer  cabinet  with  purple  shelves  full  of  eccentric 
pottery  added  their  vivid  notes. 

Charles's  rooms  were  also  in  the  movement,  but  for- 
tunately for  his  nerves  were  less  eccentric,  and  with  their 
panelled  oaken  bedstead  and  square  William  Morris  furni- 
ture came  as  a  relief  after  the  postprandial  impressionism 
of  the  room  where  they  met  for  meals.  The  two  sisters 
themselves  wore  the  so-called  "reform  gowns"— Viola  would 
have  called  them  "Djibbas"  which  no  doubt  were  as  com- 
fortable as  they  were  ungainly.  Still,  so  long  as  the  food 
was  good,  they  might  wear  crinolines  for  all  Charles  cared. 
Their  table  indeed  was  excellent,  and  attracted  several  offi- 
cers and  students  to  the  midday  meal.  Other  more  or  less 
permanent  boarders  included  three  German  bachelor  busi- 
ness men,  a  young  lawyer,  a  Japanese,  and  two  American 
ladies,  mother  and  daughter,  to  whom  by  some  oversight 
Charles  was  not  introduced  on  his  first  appearance  at  table. 

Over  the  rim  of  a  glass  of  Berncastler  Doctor,  he  saw  two 
jet-black  eyes  flash  upon  him  for  a  moment,  then  withdraw 
and  not  again  turn  his  way  till  the  end  of  the  meal,  when 
they  broadsided  an  unconscious  challenge  as  their  owner 
floated  out  followed  by  her  less  ethereal  mother.  German 
had  been  the  only  language  spoken  or  attempted  at  table, 
but  the  intonation  and  Gibson-girl  get-up  of  the  daughter 
were  unmistakable.  Her  oval  face,  uplifted  eyebrows,  piled- 
up  raven  hair  and  half  open  arch  of  a  mouth  had  an  irre- 
sistible appeal.  After  the  company  had  dispersed,  Charles 
learned  that  she  was  a  Miss  Madeline  Raymond  from  Chi- 
cago, studying  singing  at  the  local  Conservatorium. 


■ 


no 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Hn^/^r"*^  T.u'  "'"^  ^^^  ^^«»  he  was  formally  intro- 

X  and  frits  ,rr"^''°"  '"?  ""'"«  "  «"'<'«.  PMo^^ 
in  mak1„rL'"l^,r'""°"  ^'^  "^'  ■■«  »»'<i  trade  apon 

What  did  you  think  of  England?"  he  asked  5.«  h*.  ♦    u 

"    Paris     Srh^  ^"'Y  "'^  "■''  "««•  •'utTwS^  U° 

Could  you  come  all  this  way  and  not  visit  London?" 

knows  I'waf  ".'Lid*l  lo'd^n  "^'fc^^/'^J"'^ 
know,"  she  con«nu«..  .„™"i„g  ,„  Ctarlef-'X  LgH*  .S! 


DRUMS  AFAR 


III 


pie  are  the  limit.    Your  forget  that  the  world  has  gone 
round  since  the  days  of  Alfred  the  Great." 

"Costumes  have  changed,"  said  Charles  shyly,  looking 
at  the  Weber  sisters  but  speaking  softly  so  that  they  should 
not  overhear.  "If  you  came  to  England  to  buy  gowns  like 
these  you  would  certainly  be  disappointed." 

"Mercy's  sake  I"  exclaimed  Miss  Raymond.  "Don't  think 
I  came  here  for  that.  I  came  to  study  music,  particularly 
singing.    By  the  way,  has  London  any  music?" 

"Have  you  ever  heard  of  Covent  Garden?— no,  not  Mary 
Garden,"  he  replied,  still  suave.  "Or  the  Albert  Hall  for 
concerts?  When  you  have  had  more  experience,  you  will 
find  that  you  have  not  'arrived'  till  you  have  appeared  at 
one  or  the  other." 

"You  don't  say!"  she  exclaimed,  with  an  assumed  sur- 
prise very  like  that  which  Charles  remembered  on  the  face 
of  Kelly.  "W<  '  '11  wait  till  then,  and  if  I  don't  make  the 
old  burg  sit  up     all  me  a  has-been." 

"I  shall  certainly  look  forward  to  that  .  "  answered 
Charles,  then  blushed. 

The  American  girl  blushed  also  but  Mrs.  Raymond 
laughed  at  her  daughter,  saying, 

"You  got  as  good  as  you  gave  there." 

He  had  not  meant  to  be  rude,  and  yet  he  would  not  apolo- 
gize. His  British  pride  was  hurt,  and  he  began  to  think  that 
the  insular  habit  of  taking  fame  for  granted  had  its  draw- 
uacks. 

Nettled  though  he  had  been  by  Miss  RaymoJ's  trans- 
atlantic superciliousness,  Charles  could  not  forget  .he  charm 
of  her  face  and  figure.  Next  morning  he  set  out  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  Conservatorium  just  about  the  time  he  knew 
her  lesson  was  over,  hoping  to  meet  her  and  dressed  to 
kill.  He  wore  his  black  and  gold  figured  waistcoat  of  Chi- 
nese silk  which  Kelly  called  "The  Paralyser,"  while  his 
Christ  Church  straw,  ribboned  with  the  crest  of  the  cardi- 
nal's tasselled  hat,  was  something  new  to  Strasburg.  That 
inseparable  comrade  of  his  travels,  the  trouser-press,  had 
done  its  duty,  and  as  Charles  studied  his  reflection  in  the 


112 


DRUMS  AFAR 


clTJas  g::^  "'  "*  "'*  «-»'««°»  *«  Ae  «.  of  hi, 

these  two  women  wereVv^"^  pln^Tnd"  the- '  ""' 
very  few  of  either  sex  in  ih»  Ph.,  t  !.•?  *"*  *"* 
eyes  to  such  confectTMs  Mr.  d  "''VJ''  ""'  «'"'  'h"f 
to  Charles  as  he  cJlTup  ^^""'""'  '"*«'  P'^^''^ 

paralrat  *rs.!ff  L^^if "  *?  ^'•''  P""'-?  "*  her 
Lney  to'cot  r;'a1fLl:,":^>.  "*''''  "'^  ^"^  *' 

have*'i;Cg' ™ 'ihrSarr  "^h'^x^ "  "*'-  »■"-" 
the  Twelve  U^el  on'Tca'^Sai  Sc^  ^e'tsTV' 

wound-up  machines  "  '  J"^*  " 

ChlriV"*  "''"'•  *'"■'  ""■*  of  G.™-y  either,"  «id 

"It  has  its  points,"  admitted  the  ,  merican     "F^,  • 
stance,  across  , he  square  is  the  best  candy   Sre  eve^  r!^' 
deadnuts  on  their  JCuJieri^^,"  /  «ore  ever.    Im 

•Tvefsw:e";'?^^';r«lf  ?■""'•  «"•"""«  *'  <>--• 

^linJ™ne'^"Zr.r'"  ^'"'  '*'.^  R»>'"«>"<'.  with  a  daz- 
"f   I" .  •      Mother,  you  are  invited  too  " 
Isn  t  .t  too  near  lunch  time,"  said  Mrs!  Raymond 

introdS   XS^;*"'  ^°"*"""'  -"  Charltwas 
its  Imperral  na^  '"'~''  "  '"«'  '"^""S  dish  worthy  of 

FreLh  anrc^n^L'X  hti:c?°8™tdT'°"  "'t""  "' 
happy  heritage  of  Alsace  '^    '"'  '^"""  "«  """ 

"nr  *'  "^""servatorium  here  so  good'"  asW»H  n,.,i„ 

wih''eS^r:ir'''^';'^p''''' «'-««'•?  »as 

wshed  on  me  by  my  old  teacher  in  Chicago  who  had  £ 


DRUMS  AFAR 


his 

itz, 

)Ut 

;re 
eir 

tly 

er 

lie 

rs 
)f 


"3 


here  with  Paderewski.  We're  going  to  quit  as  soon  as  I 
have  used  up  my  course  of  lessons-just  a  week  from  now. 
Ihen  the  old  boy  can  kiss  himself  good  night" 

Madelme    my  dear."  remonstrated  the  mother,  "how 
sl^g!'''^''*  ^°"  *°  ^^'^^^  ^^^^  ^^'^'"S  school 

"Forget  it!"  replied  the  incorrigible.  "Mr.  Fitzmorris  is 
a  College  boy  himself,  and  can  guess  what  I  mean.  I  sup- 
pose you  never  use  slang  in  England.  Mr.  Fitzmorris  ?" 

Not  on  your  sweet  life."  replied  f  harles.  with  a  nasal 
intonation  reminiscent  of  Kelly. 

At  which  the  two  ladies  exclaimed, 

"What  do  you  know  about  that!" 

Then  with  a  laugh  Miss  Raymond  continued, 
I  guess  you've  put  one  over  on  us.     You  must  have 
visited  the  States." 

"No  such  luck,"  replied  Charles.  "But  my  friend  Kelly 
taught  me  a  few  of  your  expressions." 

J^fh^A'  ^!-^  i*-«T?,^  ^^'^  "^""'^  sympathetically  than 
he  yet  had  noticed.    "I  hke  a  good  lively  talker,  don't  you  ?" 
It  helps  some."  said  Charles  solemnly 

At  which  both  ladies  laughed  again. 

It  was  not  long  before  Charles  found  that  Mrs.  Raymond 
was  just  as  young  in  heart  as  her  daughter,  and  had  made 
her  chaperoning  an  excuse  for  a  good  time. 

"Milan  and  Rome  are  where  we  are  heading  for,"  she 
Ti^""*?:  "I've  longed  for  Italy  all  my  life.  We  stopped 
off  here  because  Mr.  Raymond  told  us  not  to  give  this  place 
the  go-uy.  My  daughter's  music  teacher  was  his  tilHcum, 
and  he  was  brought  up  on  Strasburg  " 

''And  I've  had  my  fill  of  it,"  interposed  Miss  Raymond. 
These  professors  here  are  the  limi      They  think  the  heav- 

wlyer^''''  ^^''^  ^^"^  *'"^'''  ^  ^^  Germans  to  sing 

"If  not  by  Germans."  said  Charles,  "whom  would  you 
get  to  train  it?" 

I'Search  me,"  she  answered,  laughing 

In  the  meanwhile,"  said  Charles,  "before  you  leave  this 


114 


DRUMS  AFAR 


H 


I-  J 


J' 


s^ghtl''^"*"^'"^'  ^°"  ""'^^^  ^"^  ^^"**  *°  ^^^^  »"«  the 
;;Well,  I  like  your  nerve!"  replied  Miss  Raymond. 
Your  reward  will  be  in  a  heaven  where  they  sing  Puc- 
cm^'  continued  Charles,  "and  perhaps  also  in  this  pastry 

The  week  passed  quickly  enough.    Out  of  doors  there 
was  always  something  to  see.    The  city  itself  had  never  lost 
!  n  T^ATrT'''%''  ^"*  *^*"  '^^  '"°<le"»  streets  and  this 
hnnl;«  K     ^^'/^  ?'y  ^^^  ^^^''  P**^"^'^^  <^harms.     Old 
houses  brooded  on  the  waters  of  the  Schiffleutstaden.  half- 
timbered  houses  with  oriels  and  steep  roofs  pierced  bv  dor- 
mer windows  enriched  the  narrow  streets-some  w^re  so 
narrow  that  even  to  ride  a  bicycle  was  "verboten."    The 
Minster  with  its  growth  from  austere  Romanesque  to  an 
exuoerant  Gothic  cast  its  spell  upon  them  as  upon  a  thou" 
sand  others.    The  figured  fagade  of  wann  red  sandstone 
intricate  with  traceries  and  crowned  by  an  exquisite    ose-' 
window   aced  towards  the  France  which  had  given  it  bir  h. 
Its  portals  opened  naturally  into  an  interior  with  delicate 
and  dreamy  windows.    After  this  serene  beauty,  the  astro- 
nomical clock  with  its  trickery  of  angels  and  gods  and 
twelve  apostles  seemed  but  a  toy.    Instefd  of  standing  whh 
the  gapmg  rustics,  they  preferred  to  climb  up  to  the  plat- 
form of  the  spire  and  drink  in  the  panorama  of  the  Rhine 
Val  ey,  with  the  Schwarzwald  and  the  Vosges  on  either  side 

Finding  that  he  was  a  history  student,  interested  particu- 
la  ly  ,n  the  era  during  which  Strasburg  and  Alsace-Lor- 
raine came  under  the  sway  of  France,  the  Germans  at  the 
^thcr  prnston  turned  all  their  batteries  upon  him  in  the 
desire  to  prove  that  these  two  centuries  of  French  dominion 

7hZ^u\  ^n  Tu''"^''  ^"^  ^^^'  the  A'^^tia"  ^-emained 
through  it  all  at  heart  true  German. 

"German  or  Prussian?"  asked  Charles,  whose  readin?  of 
history  was  different.    "And  was  it  ever  so  very  San? 


c- 
7 

■e 

St 

is 
d 


DRUMS  AFAR  115 

I  had  always  thought  it  was  Austrian.  Is  the  architecture 
of  the  Minster  French  or  German  Gothic?  Surely  it  be- 
longs to  the  same  order  as  the  Cathedrals  of  St  Denis 
and  Notre  Dame." 

He  angered  them  by  producing  a  facsimile  of  the  terms 
granted  to  Strasburg  in  1681  by  Louis  XIV,  and  comparing 
that  monarch's  policy  of  "ne  pas  toucher  aux  choses  d' Al- 
sace '  with  the  ruthless  Prussian  regime.    The  subject  grew 
so  sore  that  Fraulein  Anna  Weber  hinted  that  Charles  had 
better  avoid  it.    He  easily,  however,  proved  his  case  to  the 
Raymonds,  and  with  the  aid  of  old  engravings  visualized  for 
them  this  Frontier  Province,  decimated  by  centuries  of 
warfare,   colonized   again    from    Burgundy   and   Eastern 
France,  suffering  like  the  rest  of  France  from  Royalty 
and  thus  bearing  a  Rouget  de  I'lsle  with  his  song  of  the 
Marseillaise,  blossoming  in  a  distinctive  vigorous  art,  not 
Parisian  but  definitely  Gallic— now  crushed  by  Prussian  dis- 
cipline. 

In  order  to  see  the  country  round,  Charles  hired  a  motor- 
car, a  costly  vehicle,  since  the  geese  that  fattened  in  the 
villages  round  Strasburg  for  the  p&te  de  foie  gras  market 
had  a  suicidal  tendency,  and  there  were  very  few  trips 
without  their  casualties.  Hitherto  he  had  thought  a  motor- 
car extravagant,  but  the  Raymonds  took  it  as  a  matter  of 
course— Madeline  was  a  singularly  forceful  maiden,  know- 
ing what  she  wanted  and  always  getting  it.  Viola,  at  first 
had  impressed  Charles  as  an  aggressive  type,  but  she  was 
tame  compared  to  the  American,  whose  honeyed  requests 
had  behind  them  the  threat  of  a  command.  The  mother 
was  but  a  child  in  the  daughter's  hands.  Yet  the  graceful 
form  and  beautiful  face  of  this  young  Amazon  obscured  her 
dominant  manner. 

Willing  though  he  was  to  lose  his  heart,  he  found  her  slow 
to  appreciate  the  ready  sacrifice.  What  puzzled  him  most 
was  her  lack  of  interest  in  any  music  other  than  her  own. 
Uf  an  evening  he  would  fondle  the  piano,  turning  over 
the  leaves  of  her  music,  and  suggesting  by  his  comments 


ii6 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i 


that  he  also  could  sing.    But  she  would  not  take  the  hint 
content  with  her  own  contralto.  ' 

It  was  not  till  the  last  evening  of  their  stay  that  Fraulein 
Anna  took  pity  on  Charles  and  asked  him  to  perform  Noth- 
mg  loath,  he  gave  them  "Sally  in  our  Alley"  with  all  the 
sentiment  he  knew.  The  rest  of  the  company  applauded, 
but  Miss  Raymond  indifferently  turned  the  leaves  of  an 
album.    Charles  determined  to  have  it  out  with  her 

"I^  suppose  you  think  the  old  English  ballads  out  of 
date,    he  said  standing  beside  her. 

"No,"  she  answered,  "that's  not  it.  The  song  you  sang 
IS  beautiful,  but,  pardon  me  for  sayinj  it,  Mr.  Fitzmorris, 
your  voice  is  untrained,  and  this  was  more  than  you  can 
manage.  You  think  you  are  a  tenor,  whereas  your  high 
notes  are  falsetto,  and  you  would  be  a  baritone  if  you 
only  knew  how  to  produce  your  voice.  Even  my  Stras- 
burg  professor  would  tell  you  that.  I  don't  think  amateurs 
should  be  encouraged  to  sing  in  public." 

Charles  had  been  so  used  to  hearing  his  voice  praised 
that  this  came  with  all  the  greater  shock. 
';po  you  really  mean  it?"  he  said,  deeply  mortified 
It  was  coming  to  you,"  she  replied,  "since  you  asked 
for  criticism.  I'm  telling  you  the  straight  of  it.  From 
your  talking  voice  I  knew  you  had  no  training.  Your  Ox- 
ford drawl  is  amusing  but  not  musical.  Half  the  time  I 
feel  inclined  to  say,  'Use  your  lungs  and  speak  more  like  a 


man 


Damn  her  professional  conceit,"  he  thought,  and  "Damn 
her  oianners."  And  so  for  the  next  two  days  after  she  had 
gone  he  damned  her  up  and  down.  But  when  in  calmer 
moments  he  paid  a  visit  to  the  Conservatorium,  had  his 
voice  tried,  and  was  told  the  same  contemptuous  story,  he 
realized  It  was  wisest  to  make  up  for  lost  time  and  sub- 
scribed for  a  course  of  voice-production. 

His  pique  soon  disappeared  and  he  thought  of  Miss 
Raymond  with  tender  regard. 

Blank  verse  may  do  for  middle-aged  philosophers  but 
rhyme  is  the  normal  sequence  of  an  emotional  collision  be- 


It, 

in 
h- 

lie 
d, 
m 


s, 
in 
h 
u 

5- 

S 

d 

d 

n 

I 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"7 


T?  1^  youth  aged  twenty-one  and  a  maiden  aged  twenty. 
His  thonghts  dance  m  rhythm  and  the  music  of  words  that 
smg  together  sets  the  tune  to  his  adolescent  rapture.  Charles 
thnlled  now  with  a  fine  frenzy  of  which  Miss  Raymond 
was  the  charmmg  but  elusive  source.  As  a  rhymster  he 
;r.^%""5V\stio'iably  fortunate,  for  the  epithet  of  "Gibson 
Girl  which  visualized  the  memory  of  the  American  stood 
m  a  row  with  "curl"  and  "pearl." 

Quite  a  few  of  his  mornings  were  abstracted  from  the 
study  of  Ranke  and  other  such  historians  of  the  seventeenth 
century  to  th.s  present  rage  for  verse,  and  with  the  conceit 
which  flourishes  in  a  hterary  parent,  Charles  began  to  send 
his  offspring  to  the  editors  of  various  London  publications. 
Owing  to  his  forgetfulness  to  send  the  office  boy's  due  per- 
quisite, the  "necessary  stamps  for  return."  most  of  these 
were  lost  for  -ver,  but  a  few  he  recovered  with  polite  ex- 
pressions oi  ^^ret  on  his  return  to  Oxford.  One  indeed 
found  favour  with  the  editor  of  Pen  and  Pencil,  an  illustrat- 
ed weekly  which  as  a  result  went  up  considerably  in  his 


CHAPTER  XI 


•ft  ' 


1 


\M  I 


CHARLES  had  much  to  live  through  on  this  Long 
\  acation.  Other  change  from  his  books  he  found 
in  exploration  of  the  surrounding  country,  on  a 
bicycle  now,  since  there  was  no  longer  excuse 
for  a  car. 

All  the  Valley  of  the  Rhine  from  Strasburg  to  Basle 
was  a  fabric  woven  with  two  thousand  years  of  history 
Along  the  left  bank  th..  Romans  had  built  their  road 
down  from  the  great  Bur^ndian  Gate— the  very  road  by 
which  Turenne  was  afterwards  to  swoop  on  his  famous 
winter  march  across  the  Vosges.  Here  was  an  older  and  a 
richer  civilization  than  one  found  on  the  dark  narrow  val- 
leys of  the  Schwarzwald  on  the  opposing  bank. 

Both  sid,s  of  the  Rhine  seemed  to  have  been  made  for 
wheels.  Easy  going  state-owned  trains  climbed  up  to  alti- 
tudes from  which  one  coasted  down  through  miles  and 
miles  of  the  dark  scented  pines,  passing  here  and  there  a 
saw-mill  or  farm-house,  with  its  warm  monkcowl  roof. 
On  the  Vosges  side  of  the  Rhine  were  scattered  fine  old 
churches  and  market  places  and  town  halls.  Here  too  was 
the  smoke  of  modern  Germany— Mulhausen,  which  Charles 
had  pictured  only  as  a  field  of  battle,  proving  to  be  a  much 
sophistimted  city,  noted  for  its  workman's  quarter,  built 
with  model  cottages  from  which  the  working  men  had 
gradually  been  ousted  by  the  petty  tradesmen. 

TWs  was  not  mere  sightseeing  or  interest  in  old  churches 
for  Charles.  He  was  following  the  varying  fortunes  of 
France  in  Alsace  during  the  great  wars  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  If  he  crossed  the  Rhine  by  the  little  railway  from 
Freiburg  to  Colmar,  it  was  to  spend  a  day  at  Brei-sach  whe-e 
he  could  see  not  merely  the  vista  of  the  Jura,  Vosges  and 
Schwarzwald  from  the  Kaiserstuhl,  but  also  make  himself 

118 


DRUMS  AFAR 


119 


crossing, 


familiar  with  a  famous  militj 

of  the  victories  of  Turenne,  and  to  study  Vauban'.  .^. .... 
cations.  It  was  from  Colmar  that  he  had  gone  south  to 
Mulhausen,  and  so  to  Thann,  where  he  found  the  loveHest 
church  he  had  ever  seen— almost  toylike  Gothic,  with  open- 
work tower  and  exquisite  portal.  So  beautiful  it  was  that 
he  spent  the  night  at  the  inn  Zum  Bahnhof,  to  re-study  it 
in  the  better  light  of  morning. 

During  these  wanderings,  Charles  thought  incessantly  of 
Miss  Raymond,  sending  to  her  Rome  address  picture  post- 
cards of  the  phces  he  visited  and  of  the  costumes  and 
headdresses  worn  by  the  peasants  of  the  Vosges  and  Black 
Forest.  "They  may  be  useful  to  you  some  day,"  he  wrote, 
"for  a  masquerade,  and  may  remind  you  of  a  week  which 
for  me  passed  all  too  soon." 

She  postcarded  him  in  return  from  various  Italian  cities, 
and  so  on  that  evening  in  Thann  he  ventured  on  a  letter— 
which  he  forgot  to  post— telling  her  of  this  Gothic  gem, 
which  in  spite  of  six  centuries  of  warfare  had  remained 
perfect,  unspoilt— a  simile  of  the  love  which  could  cherish 
an  ideal  in  the  midst  of  strife,  ambition  and  the  lust  for 
eaT-thly  dominion. 

From  Thann  he  took  the  train  to  Kriit,  meaning  to  wheel 
his  bicycle  to  the  French  frontier  at  the  Col  de  Bramont, 
and  then  coast  down  the  valley  to  Mulhausen.  His  train 
was  shunted  in  order  to  let  another,  and  yet  another  train 
pass  by,  both  full  of  soldiers.  Kriit  itself  was  like  a  military 
camp,  and  Charles  almost  forgot  his  first  intention  when  he 
saw  the  troop  trains  pour  out  human  armies  in  full  march- 
ing order. 

"It  must  be  autumn  manoeuvres,"  he  thought,  although  he 
had  not  noticed  that  these  were  to  be  held  in  this  part  of 
the  country. 

Then  along  the  road  came  another  horde  of  motor  cars, 
some  with  officers,  and  others  of  a  commercial  tynp  evi- 
dently laden  with  supplies.  These  were  followed  "by  ar- 
moured cars  and  these  again  by  heavy  artillery.  Overhead 
drummed  an  aeroplane. 


I20 


DRUMS  AFAR 


|i    ! 


As  he  leaned  on  his  bicycle  by  the  roadside.  Charles  felt 
two  privU:.  "  "'  '"^"''  ^°  "^  ^  '^^"*^"^"^  -^^ 

ex^eiS  EnJ°r''  ""'"  '"''''"  ^''  ^^^  ''^^--^  '" 
'Tor  what?"  said  Charles,  taken  aback. 

rnn,.     •l^'^^'.r""  ^I'^^'  ^"^  ^"^P^^^^^  to  these  men.  and 
come  with  me."  was  the  answer 

durt^^h"^'??'^  uncomfortable.  Charles  obeyed  and  was  con- 
ducted by  the  officer  to  an  inn  near  the  station.    The  doors 

nf  i;"^'^^  ^^'u^^  ^^  '^"*""''  ^"^  th«  ^°"stant  passage 
was  m  possession. 

Here  Charles  was  ushered  to  a  bedroom  where  the  lieu- 
tenant searched  his  pockets,  returning  everything  except 
his  pocketbook  and  the  unposted  letter  to  Miss  RVmond 
Charles  saw  the  uselessness  of  protest,  and  as  his  cigarettes 
had  been  restored  to  him  lit  up  till  the  lieutenant  had  com- 
pieted  his  examination. 

"Your  namfr-place  of  residence  in  Germany-business?" 
were  the  questions  asked.  i^u^ness. 

Then  leaving  a  soldier  in  charge,  the  lieutenant  picked 
up  the  papers  he  had  selected,  and  for  a  time  disapi^ared 
ulT/'n!^^''''  cigarettes  were  consumed  before  he  re- 
TZle^f  i  was  then  ushered  to  a  larger  room  in  which 
a  number  of  officers  heavily  epauletted  were  seated  round  a 
nwZ^  '"/^'°"^°f  tl^f"  were  maps  which  Charles  recog- 
nized as  taken  from  his  knapsack.  As  his  eyes  .canned 
the  faces  of  those  in  front  of  him,  he  recognised  with  a  start 
one  who  was  familiar  and  who  seemed  just  as  surprised 
to  see  him  there.  It  was  Baron  v.  Gleyn.  the  Rhodes  Schol- 
ar, Kaiser  tin  s  Best  Friend 

"This  is  luck!"  thought  Charles.    "He  at  least  can  back 
me  vn  when  I  say  I  am  no  spy  " 

terL^te.^'""   ''    '^"   ^""^   °^    '^''   ''^^'   ^^^^"   *°   i"- 

be'  a?r)vT'"r~?r!''  F'f^'"°'-^'^English-you  claim  to 
be  at  D.xford-studymg  h.story-you  are  known  to  have 


DRUMS  AFAR  121 

spent  the  last  month  making  a  careful  and  methodical  study 
of  places  of  military  importance— you  have  a  collection  of 
very  mteresting  and  rare  maps,  mostly  French— some  old 
and  some  new— you  are  present  here  close  to  the  frontier 
at  a  time  when  there  are  certain  concentrations  of  troops- 
Have  you  any  explanations  of  this  unusual  and  highly  sus- 
picious behaviour?" 

The  officer  spoke  in  a  good  if  guttural  English,  with  a 
suggestion  of  sarcasm  which  gave  Charles  an  uncomfortable 
feehng.  The  best  thing  he  could  do  was  to  be  perfectly 
frank. 

"These  are  military  maps,"  he  said,  "though  out  of  date. 
I  have  been  making  a  study  of  the  topography  of  the  coun- 
try. This,  however,  is  in  connection  with  the  period  of 
history  assigned  to  me  for  my  examinations  at  Oxford, 
where  I  am  an  undergraduate.  My  special  period  includes 
the  campaigns  of  Turenne,  many  of  which  were  foueht  in 
Alsace."  ** 

"For  an  Englishman,"  interrupted  the  officer,  "you  are 
singularly  thorough.  Are  you  willing  to  swear  you  are  not 
an  officer  in  the  English  army— not  even  a  Territorial  ?" 

The  smile  that  appeared  on  every  face  showed  that  the 
German  respect  for  Territorials  was  limited. 

"If  you  do  not  believe  me,"  replied  Charles,  "ask  my 
friend  over  there— an  undergraduate  till  recently  at  my  own 
College— Baron  v.  Gleyn." 

All  eyes  turned  on  the  former  Rhodes  Scholar. 

"It  is  true,  Herr  Major,"  said  v.  Gleyn  in  German.  "I 
did  not  recognize  the  name  and  would  not  have  thought  it 
the  same  individual.  Mr.  Fitzmorris  occupied  the  same  stair- 
case as  I  did  at  Christ  Church.  So  far  as  I  can  remember, 
he  did  not  belong  ^-»  the  Officers  Training  Corps— he  was 
a  rowing  man— it  is  even  possib'e  that  I  myself  recom- 
mended him  to  come  to  study  in  Germany  in  his  vacations, 
but  of  course  I  would  not  have  expected  him  to  be  so  indis- 
creet as  he  has  evidently  been.  Yet  it  is  just  the  kind  of 
thmg  that  Englishmen  would  do— they  don't  know  what  war 
means. 


IJ: 


122 


DRUMS  AFAR 


This  evidently  appealed  to  these  Germans,  who  laughed 
merrily,  much  to  Charles's  relief. 

"Were  there  any  other  papers?"  asked  the  major  of  the 
lieutenant  who  had  arrested  Charles. 

"Just  this  one,"  said  the  lieutenant,  producing  the  letter 
intended  for  Miss  Raymond. 

"Anything  suspicious  ?" 

"Yes,''  said  the  lieutenant  solemnly,  so  that  they  all  were 
at  attention,  "I  have  grave  reason  to  suspect,  from  the  lan- 
guage in  which  his  letter  is  couched,  that  this  Englishman, 
without  realizing  it  himself,  is  in  love." 

The  rafters  shook  with  the  laughter  occasioned  by  this 
unexpected  sally,  and  it  was  some  time  before  the  major 
could  make  himself  heard. 

"Enough,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "we  can  take  the  letter  as 
read.  Mr.  Fitzmorris,  the  order  of  the  Court  is  that  you 
return  to  Strasburg  by  the  first  train.  We  commend  your 
industry  in  studying  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  but  remind 
you  that  there  have  been  other  and  more  recent  conflicts, 
and  that  these  frontier  roads  .are  unhealthy  just  now  for 
any  but  German  soldiers.  Your  maps  are  confiscated,  but 
the  rest  of  your  papers  you  may  retain.  Lieutenant,  conduct 
Mr.  Fitzmorris  to  the  station." 

"Thank  you,  gentlemen,"  said  Charles.  "Thank  you 
Baron." 

„  ".^°°^"^>'^'  °'^  ^^^P'"  said  the  latter,  waving  liis  hand, 
Give  my  love  to  Peckwater." 

As  the  train  slipped  down  the  valley  and  Charles  saw 
the  great  grey  army  marching  steadily  up  the  road  to  Kriit, 
his  head  whirled  with  the  excitement  of  what  he  had  just 
passed  through. 

Was  this  Morocco  aflf.  r  going  to  end  in  war?  There  had 
not  been  a  word  in  the  papers  about  mobilizing— of  course, 
the  first  steps  would  be  secret. 

He  now  realized  that  at  Strasburg  he  had  been  living  on 
the  edge  of  a  volcano.  The  Germans  who  either  boarded 
or  took  their  midday  meal  at  the  pension  were  obviously  less 
polite  to  him,  an  Englishman,  than  to  other  foreigners. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


123 


Even  if  that  was  merely  imagination,  there  were  other  symp- 
toms of  abnormal  circumstance. 

The  people  talked  a  patois  mostly  German,  the  soldiers 
were  Prussian,  but  the  hearts  of  all  but  the  officials  were 
surely  French.  Nowhere  was  there  a  more  callous  police 
in  Europe.  Charles  actually  saw  one  policeman  draw  his 
sword  on  a  nursemaid  who  laughed  at  him  when  he  ordered 
her  perambulator  off  the  pavement.  The  outraged  passers- 
by  stepped  in,  but  the  mere  action  spoke  of  the  oppressor. 
Fraulein  Anna,  sauntering  out  one  evening  to  post  a  letter, 
was  pounced  upon  at  the  pillar-box  and  dragged  to  the 
police  court  on  the  accusation  that  she  must  have  had  an 
assignation.  Her  absence  caused  alarm,  and  as  inquiries 
naturally  led  to  the  police  court  she  was  traced  and  found  in 
tears — her  protests  having  been  ignored.  A  civilian  who 
failed  to  yield  the  pavement  to  an  officer  was  run  through 
to  teach  him  better  manners  in  another  world,  if  not  in 
this. 

So  unsympathetic  had  Strasburg  become,  that  Charles 
decided  to  rejoin  Frank  Mainwaring  in  Paris,  where  he 
could  follow  his  studies  in  more  congenial  atmosphere. 

But  first  he  must  visit  Treves,  the  oldest  city  claimed 
by  Germany,  with  its  third  centur>'  remains.  This  meant  a 
slight  detour,  but  he  could  take  in  Luxemburg  as  well  and 
better  his  geography, 

Treves  he  found  full  to  the  brim  with  soldiers— yet  the 
frontier  here  was  surely  on  the  buffer  state  of  the  Grand 
Duchy,  not  of  rival  France.  Did  the  Prussians  then  in- 
tend to  ignore  the  treaties  under  the  stress  of  war,  and 
overrun  this  neutral,  unarmed  country  so  as  to  find  an  easy 
road  to  Paris? 

A  travelling  acquaintance  had  told  him  on  no  account  to 
miss  the  midday  dinner  at  a  named  hotel— it  was  the  best 
in  Germany.  So  after  a  visit  to  the  Porta  Nigra  and  the 
Rotes  Haus,  he  followed  the  advice.  It  certainly  was  what 
Kelly  would  have  called  "Some  dinner."  The  large  round 
guests  sat  at  a  long  straight  table,  their  eyes  wolfish  in 
anticipation  of  evermore  to  come,  their  mouths  busy  with 


124 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Gargantuan  platefuls.  Never  till  now  had  Charles  fath- 
omed the  depths  of  the  German  appetite.  He  himself  gave 
up  at  the  third  course,  but  his  neighbours  had  seemingly  just 
begun,  and  the  munch,  munch,  munch  drove  him  into  the 
open  air  A  glance  at  the  Cathedral  and  Protestant  Basilika, 
a  hurried  visit  to  the  museum,  and  he  caught  his  train. 
But  for  a  week  to  come  the  nightmare  of  that  solemn 
orgy  swamped  every  other  memory  of  his  German  trip, 
and  the  munch,  munch  of  the  insatiable  gluttons  h-.unted 
nim  like  a  barrel-organ  tune. 


th- 

ve 

ist 
he 
ca, 
In. 
m 

P. 
2d 


i 


CHAPTER  XII 

THEN  after  a  month  in  Paris  and  Versailles  began 
his  final  and  most  serious  year  at  Oxford.  Kelly's 
absence  had  left  a  noticeable  blank.  To  some  ex- 
tent this  was  filled  by  a  growing  friendship  with 
Hargrove.  Not  that  Charles  had  any  religious  tendency, 
but  that  he  took  more  interest  in  church  architecture  since 
his  visit  to  Strasburjg,  and  found  in  the  Westminster  Scholar 
a  congenial  companion  in  exploration  of  this  Oxford  county. 
Together  they  bicycled  to  see  the  fair  sanctuary  of  the 
Abbey  Church  at  Dorchester,  the  cloisters  at  Ewelme,  the 
village  cross  and  Benedictine  Church  at  Eynsham,  the  re- 
mains of  the  great  Monastery  at  Abingdon,  the  Manor  of 
Stanton  Harcourt,  and  the  old  mural  paintings  at  South- 
leigh  Church.  Hargrove  taught  Charles  the  meaning  and 
mysterious  charm  of  aumbries,  chamfers,  chantries,  cleres- 
tories, transoms  and  parcloses,  and  in  the  choirs  and  doors 
and  windows  and  chancels  of  these  churches  visualized  the 
history  of  Norman  and  Tudor  England,  with  its  Kings  and 
Crusaders,  Bishops  and  Barons,  Churchmen  and  Crafts- 
men, in  a  way  that  books  had  failed  to  do.  He  began  to 
realize  as  never  before  how  far  into  the  past  stretched 
the  roots  of  the  present,  and  felt  himself  nearer  the  Knights 
Templars  who  in  white  mantle  and  red  cross  had  kept  the 
Pilgrim's  Road  from  Sandford  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

Two  years  at  Oxford  had  transformed  this  saintly  Har- 
grove from  acolyte  to  priest,  although  he  still  supposed 
himself  an  undergraduate.  His  rooms  reflected  the  develop- 
ment. All  save  two  of  the  austere  brass-rubbings  were  now 
replaced  by  reproductions  from  illuminated  manuscripts, 
framed  twelve  together  into  harmonious  decorations. 
Towards  the  middle  of  the  term,  a  letter  from  Chicago 

125 


126 


DRUMS  AFAR 


utJ^ftl  L't^;'"^' ""'  '"'"'•  •""^"^«  o^'°"«- 

"My  dear  Charles, 
"Mike  always  talks  of  you  as  'Fitz '  but  tn  «,-  ♦»,  * 

^^eX.  '^^r-  '  ^'-y-Hink"of*;oras*t^ 
oukk  o  «^-  '  ":;^""i'  courteous,  conservative  and  yet 
?r.n  hi  ;  ^"'^'  ^"^  '°  sympathetic.  Whereas  an  Amer- 
ican boy  of  your  age  would  force  his  own  country  on  the 
foreigner  you  seemed  more  anxious  to  learn  our  v^wpoint 
subtle  and  most  pleasant  form  of  flattery.     It  makS  me 

T^Z!^\z:a^^  "-'''^  ''^  »•  we  W 

Ztll'T'  '"'"?  "^'^'^     ^^^y  *^^^  -  --h  of  you 
that  I  am  sure  you  also  must  remember  them     But  both 

are  so-so  letter- writers-Mike  being  too  deep  in  work  and 

We1tTsd^^hrnt;^^^'"^•^''^^'°^^  ^"^  new'frields  'Sm 
west    1  still  thmk  of  Chicago  as  out  West,  though  the  real 

West  now  1.     earer  the  Coast-th.e  ice  is  quickly  broken 

Every  door  is  wide  open  to  Viola.     She  nlver  looked  so 

haprv;/'\'°"  r^'^'  ^"^ "--- 1  t^nk  i: 

drSr  dim/t^  qI  complexion  blooms  so  sweet  even  in  our 
'•M,t  f     -^  .'  '"  ^"  ^"^''''^  rose-none  else  so  fair. 

Mike  has  just  won  an  important  case,  and  had  b^u 
quets  from  the  judge  on  the  skill  with  which  he  hanS^ed 
nf  "^^"y^*^t  the  two  years  of  Oxford  did  him  a  world 
of  good-widened  his  outlook,  gave  him  new  impX, 
taught  him  to  think  more  logically-so  far  fromZ"ne  a 
mere  rest-cure.  Oxford  has  helped  him  in  his  profusion 
But  of  course,  best  of  all,  it  has  given  him  Viola 

bome  of  my  friends  say  I  should  be  jealous  of  the  love 
he  gives  to  her.  But  I  know  better.  The  greatest  happT 
ness  I  have  is  seeing  Mike  contented.  ^^ 

The  next  thing  I  wished  to  say  to  you  was-when  are 
you  coming  to  see  us  ?  I  am  so  eager  I  show  you  round 
I  am  so  proud  of  our  country  that  I  want  you  to  know  U 


DRUMS  AFAR 


127 


I 


better,  you,  my  friend,  above  all.  It  may  not  be  so  beau- 
tiful as  England,  but  it  is  so  spacious,  so  vigorous,  so  full 
of  hope.  I  know  it  would  do  you  good  to  breathe  our  air, 
and  it  would  do  me  good  to  see  you  breathe  it. 

"For  I  am  growing  old,  and  mine  must  now  be  vicarious 
pleasures. 
"Won't  you  come  across? 

"Your  old  friend, 

"Marion  Kelly." 

Charles's  poem  in  Pen  and  Pencil  took  the  fancy  of  Bul- 
ler-Wilson,  Editor  of  the  Isis,  who  asked  him  for  some 
contributions.  At  first  Charles  thought  of  sending  him  the 
poems  which  the  London  editors  rejected,  but  reflection 
told  him  that  these  in  print  would  bring  yet  more  embar- 
lassment,  owing  to  their  so  obviously  amorous  intention. 
He  wrote  instead  some  flippant  essays  on  the  Oxford  Man's 
most  cherished  traditions,  more  in  tone  with  that  radiant 
mirror  of  undergraduate  life.  These  were  accepted,  and 
for  the  first  time  since  he  came  to  Christ  Church  Charles 
began  to  see  a  light  ahead.  "Publicist"  was  what  he  had 
told  his  father  he  desired  to  be,  but  that  career  was  cer- 
tainly a  trifle  vague,  not  to  say  impertinent  in  one  so  young. 
"Journalist"  on  the  other  hand  was  a  profession  any  one 
could  understand,  and  if  his  articles  were  so  readily  accepted 
by  an  editor  so  critical  as  Buller-Wilson  surely  he  would 
have  a  chance  in  Fleet  Street.  He  did  not  have  to  earn 
his  livelihood  at  once.  He  could  wait  till  he  had  the  right 
connections,  possibly  buy  himself  into  a  publishing  house  or 
magazine,  preferably  a  magazine  where  literary  style  was 
the  ideal— something  better  than  the  journalese  which  satis- 
fied the  board-school  public. 

In  his  work  for  Schools,  the  growing  fascination  of  mili- 
tary history  carried  CharJ-s  on  once  again  from  Conde  and 
Turenne  and  Vauban  to  3  old  schoolboy  hero  Marlbor- 
ough, and  Christmas  therefore  found  him'  in  Brabant  and 
Flanders  and  the  adjoining  France,  retracing  on  the  actual 
ground  the  progress  of  the  unconquerable  strategist  who 


128 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Set  t'^of"?'  ""t^"";  Brussels  StVni^; 

s^Hkes     In  ?        '"'''''"'""'  ^'■^'^  '^^  P^'-P^t"^!  threat  of 
not  repeated  P«lprimage  through  Alsace  was 

Poht.cs  .s  a  better-paid  profession  than  it  was  a  few  Tears 
ago,  and  if  you  don't  see  me  an  lU  p  u^t  ^ 

it's  because  you'll  be  dead^  '  ^^°'''  ^°"  '""^  *'^''-*>' 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it,"  laughed  Charle*     "t  «,-      . 
in  the  same  boat,  at  lea  t  so  ffr  as  Flee   Str  J  i  °  "''':: 

unless  Dad  lets  me  play  with  mili!:;! 'oTthr  S^^c^" E^^^ 

even  lau.h       .hfroL'ln  Putl.^'''''''  ^^^"--     "*  "" 

sam^'l^thc^;'   uwl^lr^'""  "•'  '"'■*>'  y°"  "'"  ^«  »»^« 
^  "^ "'^'"''^  ^o'-S've  'ts  vapid  literature  for  its 


DRUMS  AFAR  129 

admirable  art     If  Punch  would  only  take  my  caricatures. 
I  should  die  happy." 

What  Charles  admired  about  Frank  was  that  he  did  not 
cast  aside  his  rabid  Socialism,  though  by  doing  so  he  might 
have  won  more  votes  when  he  stood  for  office  at  the  Union 
iv.orcover,  he  came  out  whole-heartedly  for  Woman's  Suff- 
rage flayed  Mr.  Asquith  as  the  Grand  Old  Time  Server, 
rivalled  Lloyd  George  in  the  violence  of  his  attacks  on 
venerable  institutions.  His  ironic  spirit  scintillated  in  his 
speeches.  He  was  the  terror  alike  of  good  Conservatives 
and  Whigs.  His  sharp,  satiric  features  enraged  the  oppos- 
ing forces  ihe  more  they  looked  at  him.  "Damn  this 
Pauline  demagogue,"  they  said,  and  fumed  for  lack  of 
answer  to  his  biting  eloquence. 

The  only  point  on  which  Charles  disagreed  with  Frank 
was  on  his  attitude  to  the  Colonies.  Charles  had  never 
taken  kindly  to  the  Canadian  and  Australian  Rhodes  Schol- 
ars, any  more  perhaps  than  they  had  taken  to  him.  They 
arrogantly  claimed  the  merits  of  their  own  countries  over 
iingland,  and  yet  resented  criticism  of  themselves.  Kelly 
and  the  Americans  were  different.    They  had  behind  them 

?.;u°""*'^  1^^'^^  '"  ^^'''''  ^^'^  language  had  "made  good." 
Whereas  Australia  and  Canada  were  but  half-baked  in 
spite  of  all  their  bragging.  South  Africa  to  him  was'the 
spoilt  child  whipped,  and  then  put  on  a  pedestal.  Let 
these  colonies  shift  for  themselves,  he  said.  They  had  been 
spoon-fed  long  enough,  with  a  more  or  less  free  Navy  and 
unlimited  loans.  ^ 

Frank  however,  was  an  out  and  out  Imperialist-oppo- 
nents said  It  was  to  get  the  votes  of  the  Rhodes  Scholars. 

Let  us  have  a  real  Imperial  Parliament,"  he  urged  "not 
a  parochial  affair  like  our  present  House  of  Commons, 'ruled 
^v  a  Cabinet  of  Bumbles.  A  world  wide  Empire  needs  the 
counse  of  constructive  men  from  overseas.  Canadians, 
Australians  and  Afrikanders  should  be  our  partners.  They 
have  no  idle  nch,  they  are  used  to  doimj  and  thinking  on 
a  big  scale,  and  are  not  simply  the  mouthpiece  of  the  per- 
manent official."  I  «:  per 


I30 


DRUMS  AFAR 


II 


I  don  t  see  how  you  reconcile  your  Socialism  and  your 
Impenahsm, '  said  Charles.  "How  can  you  make  a  prac- 
tical Socialistic  State  out  of  a  scattered  Empire  such  as 
ours,  where  each  separ  te  colony " 

"Dominion." 

"Well  then,  where  each  separate  Dominion  has  its  own 
problems-the  tarift  for  instance-I  fail  to  see.  Unless  you 
have  a  more  or  less  isolated,  self-contained  community  So- 
cialism IS  impracticable." 

"Well  then,"  said  Frank,  "throw  it  overboard.  Socialism 
IS  only  a  means  to  an  end,  namely  the  betterment  of  Labour 
We  are  too  small-minded  in  this  little  England.  We  coddle 
ourselves  behmd  our  supposed  Invincible  Armada.  But  the 
world  does  not  revolve  round  London.  Don't  you  feel  when 
you  talk  to  some  of  these  men  from  overseas  that  our 
intellectual  arteries  are  hardening,  that  we  need  fresh  blood 
new  nerves^  more  elasticity  in  our  body  politic.  Oui^ 
Foreign  Office  is  still  Hanoverian-still  pettifogging  over 
the  Balance  of  Power  in  Europe.  What  we  must  consider 
now  IS  the  Balance  of  Power  throughout  the  World  * 

Some  day,  no  doubt,"  sneered  Charles,  "we  shall  listen 
to  a  Canadian  Prime  Minister  at  Westminster  talking 
through  his  nose." 

"No  worse  than  a  Scotch  Prime  Minister  talking  through 
his  hat,"  retorted  Frank.  ^ 

"With  an  Australian  Home  Secretary  being  mistaken  lor 
a  Cockney.  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  Imperialism.  For  my 
part,  I  would  cut  loose  every  outside  part  of  the  Empire 
that  could  not  pay  its  way.  It  is  not  worth  the  glory  it  is 
supposed  to  give  us.  These  Canadians  and  Australians 
talk  as  If  they  owned  us,  not  we  owned  them.  Don't  forget 
the  fate  of  Lord  Miln-r  who  went  to  South  Africa  a  Pro- 
Consul  and  came  back  a  damned  fool." 

"Does  he  know  it  ?" 

"Everybody  else  does." 

Politics  at  Oxford  is  however  but  a  game,  and  though 
Charles  and  Frank  had  furious  arguments  they  remained 
good  friends.    Frank  achieved  his  ambition  at  the  Union 


DRUMS  AFAR 


131 


an :  after  passing  through  the  Junior  offices  occupied  the 
Pi  sidential  chair  in  the  following  suiumer  term.  As  such 
he  had  the  last  word  in  the  selection  ^f  the  speakers,  and 
for  the  Eights  Week  debate  Charles  wi.s  allotted  the  place 
of  honour  as  proposer  of  a  motion.  "That  in  the  opinion 
of  this  House,  it  is  better  to  be  a  Socialist  than  a  Snob." 

In  deference  to  what  the  undergraduate  supposed  was 
the  intellect  of  the  fair  sex,  heavy  subjects  v/ere  taboo  in 
Eights  Week,  and  the  speakers  were  selected  to  amuse. 
Charles  had  developed  a  somewhat  mordant  humour,  but 
the  subject  was  one  after  his  own  heart,  and  Frank  felt 
sure  that  his  friend  would  put  some  spirit  into  the  debate. 


s 


CHAPTER  XIII 

TPIAT  speech  of  yours  was  all  right  though  rather 
youthful,"  said  Frank  as  they  walked  back  to  the 
House  after  the  debate  was  over.  "You  didn't 
truckle  to  the  Tories,  but  as  you  aren't  running 
for  office,  that  doesn't  matter.  What  you've  got  to  do  now 
IS  to  live  up  to  your  Socialism  and  help  me  next  Monday 
with  a  crowd  of  working  men  and  women  from  the  Fellow- 
ship Settlement— you  know  that  'arty'  place  we  visited  in 
London.  Whit  Monday  is  the  recognized  day  for  these 
visitations. 

"Right  you  are !  How  many  are  coming?  What  do  we 
have  to  do  with  them  ?" 

"Twenty  or  so— male  and  female  created  He  them— 
just  talk  nicely  to  them  and  give  them  lunch.  You  take 
half  and  I  take  half— probably  they  will  want  to  see  Ruskin 
Hall. 

When  next  morning  they  started  to  collect  promises  of 
boats  for  Monday,  they  found  the  disadvantage  of  having 
Whit  Monday  in  Eights  Week.  The  House  Mission  crowd 
was  also  due,  and  nearly  everybody  had  "People  "  How- 
ever with  the  aid  of  Salter's  they  scraped  up  the  necessary 
craft.  ^ 

On  Monday  at  the  station  it  was  a  problem  to  disinte- 
grate the  Fellows  Settlement  party  from  the  seething  mass 
upon  the  platform.  Then  Frank  was  hailed  by  the  Resident 
who  had  brought  them  along— an  old  Oxford  man  who 
was  glad  to  be  back  again,  if  only  for  a  day. 

"Any  more  room  in  the  Ark?"  he  sang  out  cheerfully 
"This  looks  like  Noah's  busy  day." 

The  Settlement  had  come  in  *  Sunday  Best.  So  far 
as  the  women  were  concerned,  their  style  was  on  the  heels 

132 


DRUMS  AFAR 


133 


of  fashion  though  the  material  might  be  cheap.  They  had 
more  the  finery  of  the  shopkeeping  than  of  the  labouring 
class.  As  they  chattered  to  each  other,  Charles  noticed 
Lancashire  voices  and  West  Country  voices  and  Scotch 
and  Irish  but  only  one  or  two  Cockneys.  For  London  is 
the  great  Octopus  stretching  out  tentacles  East,  West,  South 
and  North,  hypnotizing  its  victims  with  glittering  eye,  drag- 
ging the  fresh  young  country  lads  and  lasses  into  its 
insatiable  maw. 

So  far  from  wishing  to  see  Ruskin  Hall,  they  asked 
for  the  oldest,  particularly  Christ  Church,  and  of  course 
they  wished  to  go  upon  the  river. 

"Aeroplane  for  me,"  said  a  side-whiskered  individual  in 
white  spats,  Williamson  by  name,  who  evidently  fancied 
himself  as  a  funny  man,  "I  am  accustomed  to  high  society." 

He  was  anxious  to  be  conspicuous,  and  his  rasping  voice 
got  on  Charles's  nerves. 

However,  in  excellent  humour  they  made  their  way  to 
Carfax,  and  so  by  the  Commarket  to  the  Broad. 

By  this  time  Charles  had  grown  so  used  to  his  surround- 
ings that  it  was  strange  to  find  how  Oxford  fascinated  those 
who  came  with  fresh  eyes.  One  old  man  in  the  party, 
Chalmers  by  name,  would  have  spent  all  day  over  Trinity 
or  Balliol  if  he  had  been  allowed. 

"Never  mind  your  lunch  for  me,"  he  urged,  "I  have 
had  enough  to  cat  for  sixty  years,  but  I  have  just  one  day 
for  Oxford." 

It  was  only  by  persuading  him  that  there  were  more 
beautiful  buildings  yet  to  see  that  he  would  come  along 
with  the  rest. 

Another  of  the  party  was  a  handsome  girl  with  auburn 
hair  and  a  Gainsborough  hat,  beside  which  Viola's  largest 
would  have  seemed  a  bonnet.  "Miss  Adair"  was  what  the 
men  called  her,  and  "Millicent"  the  women.  The  old  man 
Chalmers  kept  a  fatherly  eye  upon  her,  and  as  Charles  took 
a  fancy  to  the  old  man,  with  his  never  ceasing  questions, 
he  found  himself  her  frequent  neighbour. 

When  they  came  to  the  Sheldonian,  the  grotesques  outside 


134 


DRUMS  AFAR 


that  otherwise  fine  building  gave  Williamson  his  oppor- 
tunity. 

"Behold  our  long-lost  brothers,"  he  exclaimed,  striking  a 
mock-heroic  attitude,  which  sent  the  party  into  fits  of 
laughter.    "This  here  is  a  faithful  portrait  of  John  William- 
son, now  serving  six  years  for  bigamy.    What  woman  could 
resist  him?    He  left  seven  claimants  to  his  name  and  title. 
Next  Peter  Williamson,  whose  effort  to  increase  the  circu- 
lation upset  the  Bank  of  England.    He  is  the  best  known 
forger  m  our  family.     Beside  him,  Joshua   Williamson, 
whom  you  may  have  already  met  at  the  Home  of  Madame 
Tusssaud.     He  stands  there  in  the  group  of  poisoners- 
Chamber  of  Horrors.    Joseph  Williamson,  mother's  pet,  is 
our  next— the  sainted— no  not  scented  Joseph,  whom  Toto, 
King  of  the  Cannibal  Islands  served  up  as  missionary  pie 
on  the  birthday  of  his  favourite  concubine.    Then  comes 
David,  confined  during  His  Majesty's  Pleasure— and  so  on 
— to  be  continued  in  our  next." 

The  Exeter  man  who  had  opposed  Charles  in  the  Union 
debate  happened  to  pass  that  very  moment,  and  heard  their 
noisy  laughter  with  a  supercilious  smile.  Charles  was  an- 
noyed, perhaps  unreasonably.  This  fellow  Williamson 
jarred  him  also,  and  he  wished  these  people  were  less 
blatant.  Still,  it  was  their  way  of  life,  so  with  a  shrug,  he 
led  the  way  upstairs  to  the  Cupola  which  Christopher  Wren 
more  than  three  hundred  years  ago  so  admirably  shaped. 

Here  they  found  a  vista  of  spires  and  towers  and  pin- 
nacles and  parapeted  roofs  and  domes  and  College  gardens 
that  drew  from  each  of  them  each  time  they  looked  through 
each  of  the  eight  windows  a  volley  of  "ahs!"  and  "ohs!" 

Miss  Adair,  to  whom  Charles  more  and  more  gyrated, 
seemed  to  have  most  restraint,  and  though  she  clearly  was 
interested  showed  a  reserve  akin  to  breeding.  Charles 
noticed  that  she  wore  a  pale  green  cotton  dress  fitting  close 
to  the  lines  of  a  tall  and  well-proportioned  figure,  and  if  the 
hat  had  not  been  so  nbtnisive  would  have  been  well  dressed. 
"Milliner,"  he  surmised,  but  on  questioning  the  old  man, 
Chalmers,  learned  that  she  was  shop  assistant  at  a  Furniture 


DRUMS  AFAR 


135 


Emporium  in  the  Tottenham  Court  Road.  A  wider  knowl- 
edge of  the  London  West  End  Shop  would  have  told  him 
the  secret  of  her  equilibrium.  There  it  was  a  misdemeanour 
to  unbend,  lest  the  customer  should  think  it  was  not  a 
privilege  to  buy.  The  lady  who  displays  the  wares  lives  up 
to  the  "Under  Royal  Patronage,"  and  those  on  whom  she 
attends  are  made  to  feel  that  the  price  they  pay  puts  them 
among  the  Upper  Classes. 

An  evident  desire  to  see  "the  swells"  took  the  party  then 
to  New  College  where  Charles  humoured  them  by  pointing 
out  an  imaginary  Earl  of  Brownacres.  At  Magdalen  he 
invented  a  marquis  and  a  viscount,  after  which  their  thirst 
for  titles  was  slaked  sufficiently  to  let  them  wonder  at  the 
cloisters,  the  doorway  of  the  Chapel  and  the  open-air  pulpit 
near  the  entrance. 

No  true  House  Man  would  admit  any  Oxford  building 
older  than  the  cloister  school  of  St.  Frideswide,  the  nucleus 
of  Christ  Church.  They  therefore  were  given  merely  a 
peep  at  Merton  and  the  Pelican  of  Corpus,  before  they 
entered  Canterbury  Gate,  where  it  was  enough  to  point  to 
the  rooms  of  Gladstone  to  prove  that  here  indeed  was  the 
nursery  of  greatness.  For  many  years  must  pass  before 
the  magic  of  that  name  fades  from  the  memory  of 
deni!  cracy— the  Grand  Old  Man  still  looms  up  Champion 
of  us  Distresses. 

In  Peckwater  they  divided,  Charles  taking  his  ten,  and 
Frank  the  rest,  Charles  being  careful  to  shepherd  the  in- 
creasingly attractive  Miss  Adair. 

It  was  a  jovial  party  that  sat  down  to  lunch,  the  only 
gloomy  face  being  that  of  Silas,  grieved  at  having  to  wait 
on  common  folk.     Williamson,  who  increased  the  tension 
by  imitating  Silas'   voice   and  gestures,  added   insult  to 
injury  by  saying, 
"Take  it  away,  my  lord,  take  it  away." 
'Take  what  away?"  said  Silas  blankly. 
"Your  face,  my  lord,  your  face— it's  a  misfit.    Take  it 
back  to  the  shop  to  get  made  over  again.    Friends,  Romans, 
Countrymen,  cannot  we  eat  our  salmon  mayonnaise  without 


if 


136 


DRUMS  AFAR 


^!r?*^T  ^^  ^''  .P'°"^  "'^*°^'-^*  ?"  Then  as  the  scout 
tlftw;^re^^„ts ''^''•^'  "^  °-  ^'^-'  ^—  ^^^P  t^ose  that 
at  ?able"^"  Chalmers  could  not  be  induced  to  keep  his  seat 

"Let  me  have  a  place  at  the  window."  he  said.  "I  want 
to  look  at  the  old  buildings.  They're  company  enough  to 
one  of  my  age.    A  sandwich  will  do  me  fine  " 

After  he  had  seen  them  started  on  what  was  to  them  a 
banquet,  Charles  came  over  to  the  window  and  sat^^de 

"You  don't  know  what  a  treat  this  is  to  me,  Mr   Fitz- 
morns.    I  read  my  books  at  night  when  the  day's  work  is 
done,  and  thmk  about  them  next  day  at  my  work,'butXe' 
imle  enough  msp,ration  in  the  basement  where  my  work 
shop  .s-all  I  can  see  when  I  look  out  of  the  window  7s  the 
ra.lmg  over  the  area,  and  the  legs  and  feet  of  pasTers-by 
But  here  you  are  face  to  face  with  fine  architecture  and  look 

wh^.^IirP^!'  ^''^'r    "^^^^  ^  ^'•^"d  opportunity   and 
what  a  different  pomt  of  view." 

"I  wish  we  all  realized  it,"  said  Charles,  "but  at  my  ace 
few  of  us  are  philosophers.  Most  of  us  are  just  Z  for 
a  good  t.me  We  are  here  because  we  are  wenty  and 
because  our  fathers  can  afford  it  " 

m^rijX  aTdet"^  '''  ''''  ^^^^'^^^  ^  ^^^  °'<^ 

yo^'f^e?  dtlfente'J'' ^^^^^ ''''  '''  '"  ^^*-^  -'»  -'^^ 

as  "v^u'  .'i.^'  ^'""h'""  ""^^  '°  ^  discontented.    If  I  were  twenty 
as  you  are,  and  poor  as  you  are  well  off,  perhaps  I  might 

a  beautiful  bnde,  is  not  jealous  of  the  bridegroom-he 

lucky  man.  but  ,f  he  has  any  sense,  he  knows  he  could 
never  replace  him     I  can  never  be  a  studet,t  here  at  oX'd 
-my  life  is  nearly  over.    This  place  is  beautiful  to  me  as 
to  you  but  all  I  can  have  of  it  is  a  passing  vision.'" 
What  is  your  work?"  asked  Charles. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


137 


"Shoemaking,"  said  the  old  man,  "more  particularly  shoes 
for  crippled  children.  It's  a  trade  that  has  survived  ma- 
chinery—they all  have  to  be  fitted  and  measured  separate— 
the  one  sole  perhaps  thicker  than  the  other,  and  the  ankles 
often  as  not  need  supports.  If  only  we  all  could  get  the 
cripples  from  our  slums  into  the  pure  air  and  sunshine  of 
the  country,  some  of  them  would  be  happier,  poor  things. 
But  the  race  is  to  the  swift,  and  the  victory  to  the  strong. 

"  'God's  Poor'  is  what  the  Scotch  call  them. 

"Wonderful,  all  the  same  how  cheerful  the  little  ones  be," 
he  continued.  "It's  not  only  wealth  and  health  that  make 
for  happiness.  There's  more  laughter  in  the  slums  than  in 
the  streets  of  the  rich,  and  more  fun  in  a  barrel-organ  than 
in  a  symphony  concert.  I  often  think  that  at  our  Settlement 
they  aim  too  high.  It's  over  our  heads,  though  a  trip  like 
this  is  a  little  bit  of  all  right." 

In  the  meanwhile  Williamson  kept  the  others  entertained 
in  his  own  way. 

"Whatever  is  Whit  Monday?"  he  asked.  "I've  forgotten 
all  about  these  Saint's  days  since  I  was  put  out  of  the 
Church.  It  must  be  something  swell,  or  Mr.  Fitzmorris 
wouldn't  have  brought  out  his  best  silver." 

Or  again, 

"Mr.  Chalmers,  will  you  kindly  lend  your  stick  to  the 
Gorgonzola." 

Through  it  all  Miss  Adair  sat  serene.  When  lunch  was 
over,  and  they  left  his  rooms,  Charles  manoeuvred  himself 
beside  her,  and  pointed  out  the  things  of  interest.  There 
was  something  to  tell  about  each  comer  of  each  quadrangle 
--he  had  the  story  pat  now— so  that  he  did  not  notice  how 
little  she  said  in  answer.  By  the  time  they  had  gone  through 
the  Cathedral  and  admired  the  Hall  and  crossed  the  Clois- 
ters and  passed  through  Meadow  Buildings  into  the  Broad 
Walk  he  believed  they  had  had  a  wonderful  conversation. 

At  Salter's  there  was  diffidence  as  to  who  should  get 
into  which  boat.  Mr.  Chalmers  helped  Miss  Adair  into  the 
punt  which  happened  to  be  Charles's. 


I 

11; 


138 


DRUMS  AFAR 


!I 


"And  I'm  going  too,"  he  said.    "It's  the  last  chanr, 
vT    ,  f"  ?^  °"  *«  """  »'"'>  »  pretty Sri  " 

s^s?ndSra^t?sri-isX  55 

about  the  same  ever  since   Pvr^tfK  r  •         -*«  been  just 
v^e  k  *  T  J     !         .        *^*'  except  holmays  and  Sundavs 
Yes  but  I  don't  grudge  it  to  those  that  have  it.    There"s  lots 
of  happiness  in  work  as  well  as  play  " 

spi^rn  ''"V'  fv  l'  '"^^  ^^''^'''  ^'th  a  sudden  in- 
Ovfn  7'  K  °"  ?'"^  "^'^^  «"^y  of  the  life  we  live  at 
Oxford,  whereas  I  am  looking  forward  to  the  time  when 

lillL  ::f  K  ^°S^°".'  ''  y^""-  ^^»°^«  SettlemenUf  you 
a're'tLl  Tortrl?"''^"^'    ^^  ^^^  ^'^  ^'^^'^g  heVA'cu 

pWr-A^eC''"  'T  r^  ^^-  ^^^^"*^"  ^ith  evident 
pleasure.      Are  we  going  to  have  you  as  a  Resident  ?  You'll 
be  kmdly  welcome  so  far  as  the  Associates  are  concerned 
When  do  you  think  of  coming  to  us  ?"  ^^oncemed. 

"I  have  to  pass  my  Final  Schools  first.     But  I've  seen 
enough  JO  make  me  want  a  change  from  this  butterfly  S- 

n„7-^''  It  *^^b""«'-fly."  said  Mr.  Chalmers,  smiling  and 
nudging  the  lady  at  his  side.  =»mumg  ana 

sinSfa'Xliet  ^Z  ""^t  ^"^  *"  ^°°^  '''  '^'  ^^^^^'^^d 
morrir"  Th  '  •  ^•^^'"o^ris,"  or  a  "No,  Mr.  Fitz- 
Sr ta  n  of  her'Vrf  '  ''^T'  "^"^^^^'  ^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^  un- 

right  places.     Charles  however  attributed  her  silence  to 


DRUMS  AFAR 


139 


shyness  and  modesty,  qualities  which  struck  a  sentimental 
chord  in  his  heart. 

He  thought  of  that  other  river  trip  to  Godstow  two 
summers  before,  and  Kelly's  wish  for  something  which 
should  introduce  some  romance  into  his  relations  with  Viola, 

It  would  be  easy  enough  to  collide  with  any  of  the  canoes 
coming  up  the  stream,  but  the  Cher  was  notoriously  shallow 
in  these  reaches,  and  in  any  case  a  punt  is  hard  to  upset. 

It  was  not  till  they  had  floated  through  Magdalen  Bridge 
into  the  wider  and  deeper  stream  that  hope  gleamed  ahead 
of  him.  This  was  a  diminutive  Fresher  revolving  in  a  punt 
which  was  evidently  too  much  for  him,  so  that  his  frantic 
efforts  and  uncertain  course  gave  promise  of  the  hoped-for 
catastrophe. 

If  only  the  Fresher  wotild  fall  overboard,  and  if  only 
he  could  not  swim  Charles  saw  that  he  could  make  a  showy 
rescue,  without  much  danger  to  any  one  concerned.  The 
water  could  not  be  very  deep. 

Drawing  closer  to  the  bank,  he  got  ready  on  emergency 
to  push  his  own  punt  ashore,  so  as  not  to  upset  his  pas- 
sengers if  he  had  to  dive  into  the  water  in  aid  of  the 
distressed. 

Bracing  himself  together,  however,  no  doubt  lest  he 
should  excite  the  ridicule  of  so  fair  a  lady,  the  Fresher 
steered  safely  past  them,  and  Charles  was  resigning  himself 
to  a  humdrum  return  when  suddenly  Fortune  veered. 

Whether  it  was  that  old  Mr.  Chalmers  was  not  used  to 
the  balance  of  the  punt,  or  whether  Charles  himself  was 
careless  as  he  pushed  out  again  into  midstream,  anyhow 
there  was  a  sudden  lurch,  and  before  he  had  quite  realized 
what  had  happened  he  was  himself  in  the  water.  Coming 
to  the  surface  and  treading  water  as  he  cleared  his  eyes,  he 
found  himself  seized  suddenly  by  the  hair  and  uncere- 
moniously ducked  again.  This  was  the  Fresher  who  think- 
ing that  Charles  might  not  be  able  to  swim  and  seeing  that 
the  other  two  in  the  punt  were  too  excited  to  do  anything, 
had  plunged  into  the  stream,  grabbed  his  victim  by  the 
hair  and  commenced  to  swim  vigorously  on  his  back  to  the 


I40 


DRUMS  AFAR 


shore.  Fortunately  for  Charles  he  had  just  had  his  hair 
cut  Struggling  free  with  his  head  still  smarting  from  the 
hands  of  h.s  unsolicited  deliverer,  he  sv.am  to  where  the 
two  punts  had  drifted  under  a  tree 

ont'nf /'"''^r  Tl"""'""^  ^^  °ther,  swimming  after  him  all 
out  of  breath.    "I  was  trying  to  save  you  " 

ChL^J'^  ^°"  ""^'f^  •"  '"'^  ^  ^^'""^^  hurry^."  hissed 
Charles,  furious  at  the  turn  things  had  taken 

Do  you  often  do  this  at  Oxford?"  came  the  rasnim? 

Williamson  who  in  a  row-boat  with  three  other  members  of 
the  party  had  swung  in  sight  just  as  the  upset  occurred 
Please  do  it  again,  so  that  I  can  take  a  snapshot  " 
The  shout  of  laughter  which  followed  recalled  Charles 
to  the  humour  of  the  situation,  so  swallowing  his  wrath  he 
aughed  himself  and  climbing  on  to  the  bank  tried  to  wring 
he  water  out  of  his  clothes.    Just  then  Frank  came  alonf 
m  another  row-boat  and  saved  the  situation 

Til  take  the  punt  back,"  he  said.    "These  other  fellows 
with  me  can  row  all  right.    You  get  back  into  dry  doth^ 
and  have  tea  ready  for  us  about  five  o'clock.    We  are  iust 
m  time  to  see  the  Second  Division  races,  and  will  come 
along  after  the  finish." 

"Right  you  are,"  said  Charles,  glad  to  escape  the  grin- 
ning Williamson.    "What  about  vou?"  te  the  Fresher 

Thanks,  I  can  manage,"  said  the  larter.     "I  came  out 
expecting  to  get  upset." 

1    I**  '^y;"^,^^  sot  into  his  punt  again,  aiK  lai  a  3leased 
look  on  his  face  continued  to  revolve  m?  <c-^ 

All  the  way  back  to  Christ  Church  liarte.  cursed  ^he  ill 
luck  which  had  so  pervert  ins  ..^=^n,  ^^d  of 
shining  as  a  hero  in  Miss  Aomr's  ^et.  te  sate  *rn  made  to 

turned  the  laugh  still  more  :u:zr^  mm.     H-  cooid  have 
kicked  himself  as  he  reviewed  :iie  wmcarf  -tanencs 

However^  by  the  t:mc  he  h:.d  :^uet.  onaseif  6twn  and 
changed  and  put  the  kettle  on  md  got  ^rrrhm^  rradv  for 
the  return  of  the  party,  his  U3ial  ^or^r^^^^^  ^ain  on 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I; 


141 


lop  and  he  was  quick  as  any  to  laugh  over  what  had  hap- 
pened. Much  to  his  relief,  Williamson  and  some  of  the 
others  preferred  to  stay  on  the  river  till  the  First  Division 
races,  but  Miss  Adair  and  Mr.  Chalmers  and  half  a  dozen 
more  had  professed  themselves  tired  and  returned  to  make 
a  pleasant  and  congenial  tea-party. 

Then  they  sang  songs,  and  Charles  found  one  or  two 
duets  such  as  Philip.  Sidney's  "My  True  Love  Hath  My 
Heart"  in  which  his  own  voice  blended  admirably  with  that 
of  Miss  Adair. 

It  was  her  voice  and  smile  that  stayed  with  him  after 
they  had  all  gone.  He  sat  at  his  window  that  night  looking 
at  the  moon. 

"That's  a  fine  girl,"  he  thought.  "What  a  pity  she  has 
to  serve  in  a  shop.    Dignity  of  labour  be  damned." 

He  spent  the  night  writing  verses  to  an  imaginary 
Beatrice  who  was  astonishingly  like  Miss  Adair. 

Her  qualities  as  in  the  case  also  of  Miss  Raymond,  the 
American  girl  he  had  met  at  Strasburg,  were  nicely  suited 
to  the  poetic  vehicle.  "Demure"  rhymed  with  "pure"  and 
"lure,"  "hair  so  rare  with  its  auburn  glow"  made  a  line 
that  matched  the  "voice  of  music  sweet  and  low."  Any 
one  "so  tall  and  slender"  naturally  needed  some  one  "to 
defend  her,"  and  the  "lips  of  silent  eloquence"  rhymed 
after  a  more  or  less  satisfactory  fashion  with  her  "virgin 
innocence." 

He  was  glad  that  his  suggestion  of  some  day  taking  up 
residence  in  the  Fellows  Stitlement  had  been  received  so 
heartily,  at  least  by  old  Chalmers.  That  could  not  be  till 
he  went  down  from  Oxford  but  she  was  young  yet,  and  it 
would  in  any  case  be  a  long  while  before  he  could  marry. 
If  in  the  meanwhile  she  met  any  one  she  liked  better, — that 
would  be  just  his  luck,  but  even  then  she  might  marry  a 
brute  from  whom  he  might  one  day  save  her. 

Between  Eights  Week  and  the  end  of  the  Summer  Term, 
the  hearts  of  Charles  and  Frank  were  oppressed  by  a  deep 
gloom.  Within  a  few  weeks  now  each  of  them  must  enter 
the  Examination  Schools  clothed  in  his  right  mind  and  a 


142 


DRUMS  AFAR 


;■; 


white  tie.  In  their  punt  they  read  no  more  the  latest 
Chesterton  or  Belloc.  but  sighed  over  heavTLks  loaded 
with  foot-notes,  tearing  their  eyes  away  from  tf^blue  sktes 
and  leafy  mllows  and  gentle  ripple  of  the  Cher  After 
21     V'^'^'^T  '^'  theatre  and  except  on  Thufsdt 

L  «f/i/    ;  !       t  seclusion  of  their  own  rooms,  where  at 
the  stroke  of  ten  they  sported  their  once  hospitable  oaks 

f.  A  r.^,"'  *u'""  '"^'"^*^*^  ^"^"'•e  ^as  concerned  it  mat- 
tered  little  what  sort  of  Class  thev  ant  n  I 
weijrhf  in  Pi«-*  c*  \  I  1  y  ^°*'  ^^ss  having  no 
weight  m  Fleet  Street,  but  Frank  did  not  wish  to  aooear 
unworthy  of  the  Scholarship  which  had  helped  him  toXe 
happy  years  at  Oxford  and  which  he  realized  had  put  hm 
under  obligations  to  the  Dons.  Charles  for  his  part  stiH 
hX;i'th'eXtt°/  T'"^  ';^  «^"  «^'"^'  and^fe  l:^ 

in  pardis^trtinn^'T'"'?'  '^  "^'^^  "P  ^°'-  '^'  t'"^e  >o«t 

n  sSte  o1  M*  f  •    ^"f^  '\"?*  **"*  ^'^^  ^  Second  which 

m  spite  of  his  finer  scholarship  was  no  better  than  the 

Second  secured  by  Charles.  ^ 

tut7r  wSi„°;Lv*'''f  '°  ^*'  y^"  ^  ^•"*'"  ^i<»  Charles's 
tutor,  when  they  met  again  at  Convocation,  "but  the  other 

Examiners  were  against  it.     They  said  you  were  to^  ir' 

relevant,  and  did  not  show  sufficient  scholarship    Ho^vi' 

'■Is  that  so  dreadful  a  fate?"  asked  Charles. 

th.H«.r*      /°"'  ^e^Pe^'nent*  X".    If  only  you  knew 
the  drudgery  of  rying  to  knock  sense  into  the  Passmen  who 

It  has  novelty  for  you-you  have  just  three  or  four  years 

in  N^lT  n"f  'r  '"'  ^'?^  °^  °"^  "^"  »"<i  mo^  of'  hi 
in  North  Oxford-worse  than  Brixton  or  Clapham  " 

On  going  down,  Charies  and  Frank  planned  to  see  as 
much  of  each  other  in  London  as  possible         ~  '°  ^  ^^ 

settlement.    He  told  himself  it  was  because  he  wanted  to 


DRUMS  AFAR  143 

be  one  of  the  people-but  note  that  he  did  not  definitely 
ask  to  have  his  name  proposed  until  he  had  paid  a  visit  to 
the  place  and  found  Miss  Adair  still  an  Associate. 

Frank  said  it  was  cheaper  for  him  to  stay  at  home— he 
would  have  to  practise  strict  economy  now,  but  meant  to 
come  to  the  Settlement  at  least  once  a  week.  He  thought 
he  might  run  a  drawing  class  for  the  Associates  or  perhaps 
help  m  the  Dramatic  Society. 

"Anyhow,  we  are  sure  to  run  across  each  other  in  Fleet 
btreet,  he  said  as  they  parted  at  Paddington.  "We  have 
drunk  a  Bruderschaft  in  ink  which  no  man  can  obliterate." 


SI 

% 


!. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

WHEN  Charles  announced  to  his  people  that  he 
had  become  a  Resident  at  a  Working  Man's 
Settlement,   Mrs.   Fitzmorris   merely   shrueeed 
her  shoulders. 
"You  can't  expect  us  to  call  on  you,"  she  said.    "Slum- 
mmg  IS  quite  out  of  fashion.    It  was  all  very  well  before 
Lloyd  George  started  his  Limehouse  taxes,  but  I  don't  see 
how  people  m  our  position  now  can  afford  to  be  charitable  " 
My  dear  mother,"  replied  Charles,  "this  will  cost  you 
nothmg  and  will  do  me  a  world  of  good.    If  I  am  to  write 
on  public  questions,  I  must  make  some  friends  outside  the 
House  of  Lords." 

"Personally,"  said  his  father.  "I  think  it  an  excellent 
Idea      I  hope  you  will  make  friends  with  labour  leaders 
and  let  me  know  when  any  strike  is  brewing.    The  market 
IS  usually  caught  napping.    My  only  advice  is,  don't  take  it 
all  too  seriously.     Twenty-two  is  the  sentimental  age  at 
which  one  takes  to  Socialism  just  as  children  catch  the 
measles.     But  you'll  grow  out  of  it  in  time-particulariy 
when  you  have  to  earn  your  bread  and  butter.     You'll  be 
glad  then  you  have  an  education  which  handicaps  your 
competitors.    And  don't  be  too  socialistic  to  remember  that 
If  you  need  some  capital  to  buy  yourself  into  any  business' 
your  father  is  ready  with  the  accursed  thing  " 

Charles  did  not  forget.  Indeed  only  a  few  weeks  later 
he  asked  his  father  to  put  up  £5000  to  secure  an  interest  for 
him  mPen  and  Pencil,  the  paper  which  had  printed  his 
hrst  published  poem  and  which  was  on  the  lookout  for  a 
new  director  with  literary  tastes  and  a  supply  of  cash 

The  opportunity  was  brought  to  his  attention  by  Frank 
Mainwaring,  who  discovered  that  the  editor  who  had  prom- 

144 


DRUMS  AFAR 


145 


ised  publication  of  his  caricatures  was  less  enthusiastic 
when  it  came  to  paying. 

"Find  me  some  source  of  revenue,"  said  that  worthy, 
"and  you  can  have  all  you  want.  But  art  is  at  a  discount 
in  these  days  of  photography,  and  we  ourselves  survive  by 
small  economies." 

Frank  remembered  that  Charles  had  a  father  on  the  Stock 
Exchange,  and  therefore  probably  in  touch  with  guinea- 
pigs. 

"Guinea-pigs  be  damned!"  said  Charles.  "I  shall  get 
Dad  to  put  up  the  money  himself  and  kill  two  birds  with 
one  stone,  appointing  myself  director,  and  you  as  regular 
contributor.  By  doing  so  we  shall  perform  a  service  to 
current  art  and  literature.  The  old  rag  is  like  your  body 
politic—it  needs  new  life.  I  shall  see  that  the  editor  cuts 
out  his  journalese  and  prints  only  good  English,  if  I  have 
to  write  it  myself,  as  indeed  I  hope  to  do." 

"Don't  count  your  chickens,"  said  Frank,  "till  you  have 
met  Jones." 

"Who  is  Jones?" 

"The  editor." 

"So  prejudiced  as  that?  Then  our  duty  is  to  train  him, 
to  convert  him,  or  to  die  in  the  attempt." 

"You  can  save  time  now  by  writing  our  obituaries." 

Charles  found  that  Jones  was  not  so  adamantine  as 
imagined,  though  he  insisted  on  his  rights. 

"We'll  make  the  paper  as  literary  and  book- revie wish  as 
you  like,"  he  said.  "Publishers  can  usually  be  milked,  if 
approached  with  care,  at  three  seasons  of  the  year,  particu- 
larly at  the  Christmas  giftbook  season,  though  the  adver- 
tising rates  they  pay  are  hardly  worth  the  cost  of  paper. 
But  don't  ask  me  to  fool  about  with  Mainwaring's  Imperial- 
ism. We  have  no  circulation  in  the  Colonies — Canada 
particularly  is  impossible,  swamped  with  American  publi- 
cations—so unless  these  emigrants  pay  to  see  their  names 
in  print,  they  can  stay  out  of  our  pages.  Of  *.  rse  if  there 
IS  a  rebellion,  we  shall  have  to  deal  with  then  Sut  unless 
they  are  on  the  scale  of  the  Russo-Japanese  affair  wars  cost 


ii. 


146 


DRUMS  AFAR 


f 


more  than  they  are  worth.  I'd  much  rather  have  a  society 
divorce  case  or  political  scandal,  or  a  good  Royal  funeral." 
Then  suspiciously  to  Charles,  "I  hope  to  God  you  aren't 
a  short-story  writer.  I  have  enough  in  this  drawer  to 
last  three  years,  accepted  and  none  paid  for.  Poems  are 
another  matter,  if  they  are  not  too  long.  They  come  in 
useful  as  fill-ups.  Two  and  a  half  inches  is  a  handy  size." 
Fitzmorris  Senior  was  also  as  good  as  his  word. 
"Let  me  name  the  Financial  Correspondent,  and  you  can 
have  it,"  he  said.  "I  may  as  well  have  a  run  for  my  money." 
The  existing  directors  were  willing,  and  Charles,  who 
salved  his  conscience  by  recalling  that  the  leading  principle 
of  Fabian  Socialism  was  Compromise,  lost  his  last  scruple 
when  he  found  that  the  correspondent  in  question  had 
hitherto  been  Scissors  and  Paste. 

With  reading  and  writing  and  practical  incursions  into 
the  management  of  an  illustrated  paper,  Charles  found  the 
time  pass  pleasantly  enough.  Three  evenings  of  the  week 
were  devoted  to  the  Fellows  Settlement,  where  he  now 
helped  to  conduct  a  debating  society,  a  literary  class,  and 
the  library.  He  would  have  preferred  to  assist  more  in  the 
work  done  by  day  in  connection  with  the  Play  Centre  for  chil- 
dren, but  that  was  in  the  hands  of  competent  women,  who 
were  much  better  fitted  to  conduct  this  admirable  scheme 
of  keeping  children  after  school  hours  from  the  streets, 
with  fairy-tale  classes,  basketwork,  needlework,  folk-song 
and  morris-dancing. 

Once  a  week  there  was  a  social  evening  at  which  his 
voice  was  in  much  request,  and  in  his  first  enthusiasm 
Charles  really  thought  the  kindly  glow  which  wanned  him 
to  his  fellows  was  reciprocated  just  as  heartily. 

The  Associates  were  mostly  shopkeepers  and  their 
women-folk,  clerks  and  a  few  skilled  tradesmen,  but  the 
navvy  and  the  bricklayer  went  elsewhere. 

So  far  as  grown-ups  were  concerned,  the  Settlement  was 
but  an  inexpensive  chih,  Their  characters  were  formed, 
and  they  took  the  educational  side  as  an  inconvenience 
which  had  to  be  put  up  with  to  secure  the  other  benefits. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


147 


Old  Mr.  Chalmers,  the  philosophic  shoemaker  to  whom 
Qiarles  had  taken  such  a  fancy  on  that  notable  Whit  Mon- 
day excursion,  was  the  most  outstanding  character  among 
the  Associates. 

When  the  debates  threatened  to  become  too  acrimonious, 
his  common-sense  opinion  calmed  the  fevered  disputants. 
If  intrigue  against  authority  undermined  good  feeling,  he 
found  the  happy  path  of  reconciliation.  The  cool  green 
corridors  were  a  fitting  background  to  his  grey  beard  and 
hair.  On  the  social  evenings  his  pleasant  smile  seemed 
to  pervade  the  hall,  crowded  though  it  might  be  with  more 
hilarious  youth.  At  the  lectures  and  concerts,  however 
much  above  his  head  they  might  be,  he  was  a  faithful 
front-row  disciple,  urging  by  his  example  the  mere  pleasure- 
seekers  to  give  their  due  to  the  Earnest  Workers  who  gave 
their  time  and  talent  to  the  Elevation  of  the  Masses. 

Directorship  of  Pen  and  Pencil  brought  with  it  the  draw- 
backs as  well  as  the  pleasures  of  power.  It  was  surprising 
to  find  how  many  Residents  and  Associates  at  the  Settle- 
ment had  literary  hopes,  how  many  more  or  less  remote 
acquaintances  asked  Charles  to  get  passes  for  the  theatre, 
how  many  of  his  sister's  friends  to  have  their  portraits 
published.    In  vain  he  protested  he  was  not  the  editor. 

"How  is  it  that  you  get  your  own  articles  published?" 
said  the  importunate  and,  "How  do  you  get  to  so  many 
theatres  yourself?" 

The  fact  was  that  Jones  was  a  homebird  and  sent  Charles 
to  the  plays  he  did  not  wish  to  see  himself,  thinking  in  this 
way  to  propitiate  the  source  of  his  income  and  at  the  same 
time  to  find  leisure  for  the  bosom  of  his  family. 

One  day  Jones  said  to  Charles, 

"You  look  so  presentable,  I  think  V\\  put  you  on  to  inter- 
views." 

"B»it  I  can't  write  shorthand." 

"Th.  ■{  God  for  that.  I  could,  and  I  was  kept  back  for 
ten  years.  I  was  sent  to  report  speeches  when  I  still  had 
youth  and  the  power  to  be  original.  All  you  need  to  do  is 
to  rememl)cr  phrases  of  those  you  interview  and  fill  up  with 


i 


148 


DRUMS  AFAR 


flattery.  They  never  say  what  they  really  think.  That  is 
the  secret  of  their  success.  All  they  want  is  to  see  them- 
selves m  pnnt  They  will  swallow  anything  you  put  into 
their  mouths  if  it  is  nicely  seasoned." 

"Mr.  Jones,"  said  Charles  one  day,  "how  did  you  get 
your  worldly  wisdom?"  ^ 

"On  two  hundred  pounds  a  year.  I  know  too  well  what 
1  lack  myself.  I  want  to  help  you  with  my  experience 
because  I  hke  you.  and  because  some  day  you  may  need 
it.  Perhaps  you  don't  know  it,  Fitzmorris,  but  you  are 
going  to  drop  your  money  in  this  paper,  and  I'd  like  to 
think  that  when  we  go  smash,  you  still  know  enough  to 
earn  your  own  living." 

"Five  thousand  pounds  seems  lots  of  money  " 

"Not  in  Fleet  Street.  This  is  a  losing  game,  and  if  there 
werent  people  fools  enough  to  want  to  own  a  newspaper 
at  any  cost,  it  could  not  go  on." 


t   IS 

:m- 
ito 

get 

lat 
ice 
ed 
ire 
to 
to 


re 
er 


O 


CHAPTER  XV 

NCE  a  week,  the  more  active  of  the  Associates  and 
Residents  chose  a  place  of  interest  in  or  near 
London  for  a  "Ramble"  most  of  which  was  usu- 
ally done  by  train  or  tram. 
Although  he  had  met  her  once  or  twice  at  the  Settlement, 
it  was  not  till  the  occasion  of  a  ramble  to  Leith  Hill  that 
Charles  had  a  chance  of  talking  to  Miss  Adair  for  more 
than  a  minute  at  a  time.  She  was  but  little  changed  in 
appearance,  except  that  her  picture  hat  was  now  less  over- 
whelming. Her  dress,  it  is  true,  was  hardly  suited  for  the 
country — the  high-heeled  shoes  suffering  rude  courtesy 
from  muddy  roads.  She  left  the  romps  and  races  to  those 
less  fashionably  corseted,  and  her  hobble  skirts  were  never 
meant  to  clamber  over  stiles.  But  at  the  resting  places, 
when  they  called  for  music,  she  sang  the  latest  from  the 
Gaiety  and  sang  :t  well.  It  turned  out  that  she  was  a  star 
soprano  in  the  Choral  Class  and  Charles  resolved  that  he 
would  also  swell  the  volume  of  the  baritones— he  had  left  his 
tenor  at  Strasburg— would  study  her  profile  and  think  of 
St.  Cecilia. 

On  the  way  home  they  walked  together,  and  by  this  time 
she  was  less  laconic  than  on  the  Whit  Monday  trip  to 
Oxford.  Although  her  accent  had  its  Cockney  flavour, 
she  had  by  this  time  a  fair  control  of  the  elusive  aitches. 
But  it  was  still  Charles  who  had  to  do  the  talking,  she  being 
mostly  satisfied  to  listen. 

He  naturally  talked  of  Woman's  Suffrage,  thinking  it 
would  please  her  when  he  said  he  was  a  Pro.  But  she  was 
lukewarm,  blaming  those  who  broke  shop-windows. 

"We  are  all  suspected  now,  and  if  men  could  fill  our 
places  we  should  have  to  go.  To  my  mind,  a  woman's  place 
is  the  home." 

149 


ISO 


DRUMS  AFAR 


This  Charles  had  heard  before,  but  never  in  a  voice  more 
musical.  He  told  her  then  about  Viola  Mainwaring  not 
giving  names,  and  gently  ridiculed  the  modem  woman's 
way  of  dealing  with  moonlight  proposals.  Miss  Adair 
vowed  herself  amazed  at  any  girl  who  could  not  take  a 
man  on  trust,  even  if  he  were  American. 

When  a  youth  talks  of  such  subjects  to  an  attractive 
maiden  It  is  time  to  fly  the  danger  signal.  Insidiously  the 
spell  which  for  a  year  had  lain  asleep  revived.  During  the 
ensuing  month  Charles  amply  satisfied  Jones's  expressed 
capacity  for  verse.  Such  poems  as  dealt  too  closely  with 
the  glint  of  auburn  hair  were  reserved  for  his  own  private 
desk,  but  others  of  less  intimate  nature  found  their  way  to 
the  typewriter  and  so  to  Jones,  who  measured  them  with  his 
rule  and  indexed  them  for  use  as  required.  These  dealt 
SiT  ^^  ^^^V^^oi  country  life.  The  happiest  was  called 
The  Exquisite  Rambler"  and  read  as  follows:— 

"Where  trees  hang  soft  upon  the  lane. 

And  fields  are  green  and  sweet. 
The  delicate  airs  come  down  like  rain 
And  kiss  my  dusty  feet. 

I  slip  beyond  a  broken  stile, 

And  wake  the  drowsy  ground ; 
I  wander  many  and  many  a  mile 

Where  never  a  path  is  found. 

The  fragrant  ways  that  poppies  know, 
Where  grass  grows  deep  and  free— 

These  give  the  breath  that  I  would  blow : 
No  hot  higl  road  for  me." 

read  It.  With  the  heading  and  the  signature  that  makes 
two  inches  and  a  quarter.  I  dare  say  we  can  find  a  comer 
for  It  some  day."  Then  with  a  hum  and  a  ha,  he  added 
You  had  your  girl  with  you.  It's  a  bad  habit  to  get  into. 
Take  my  advice  and  drop  it." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


^ 


151 


things 


Absurd,"  said  Charles,  but  blushing.     "You  imagine 
igs." 

"I've  been  there  myself,"  said  Jones,  "and  I'm  just  giving 
you  the  tip.    Do  you  intend  to  send  her  these  in  writing, 
or  will  you  wait  and  cut  them  out  of  the  paper?" 
"Neither."  ^  ^    ' 

"Well,  try  writing,  and  get  her  to  write  back.  You'll 
find  out  then  whether  she  can  spell.  It's  an  awful  blow  to 
an  Oxford  Man  to  learn  too  late  that  his  girl  spells  love 
with  a  'u'." 

"Book-learning  isn't  everything." 

"Between  the  educated  and  the  semi-educated  is  a  triple 
wall  of  barbed  wire.  Books  are  comforting  when  you  want 
to  forget  your  worries.  And  there's  worry  enough  when 
you  get  a  wife." 

Charles  felt  sure  that  Jones  was  prejudiced.  In  any 
case  he  did  not  feel  he  knew  Miss  Adair  well  enough  to 
send  her  verses,  but  waited  till  they  should  appear  in  print. 
Pen  and  Pencil  was  subscribed  to  by  the  Settlement  Librar> , 
so  that  when  the  poem  came  out  three  weeks  later  it  was 
pounced  upon  at  once. 

Within  the  Settlement  walls  he  missed  no  chance  of 
meetmg  Miss  Adair.  Jones,  when  he  hinted  that  she  could 
not  spell,  was  surely  wrong.  She  came  to  the  Literary  Qass 
and  took  books  from  the  Library,— fiction,  it  is  true,  but 
then  their  fiction  was  carefully  selected.  With  a  face  of 
rapt  attention  he  had  seen  her  listening  on  Sunday  even- 
ings to  a  course  of  lectures  on  philosophy,  and  she  never 
failed  the  Readings  from  Great  Writers. 

She  seemed  to  be  less  stiff  to  him  than  to  the  others  and 
on  any  mention  of  his  work  in  Fleet  Street  showed  unusual 
interest.  He  felt  on  such  occasions  that  she  had  marked 
him  from  the  crowd. 

The  other  Residents  marked  it  too,  and  did  not  fail  to 
tease  him.  They  had  less  faith,  and  remembering  the  char- 
acter of  the  Emporium  which  she  adorned  by  day  called 
her  "Miss  Tottie  Court."  j      j        ^yx 


!      I 


152 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i: 


:'. 


•  t 


IH 


"Tottie  has  got  her  eye  on  you,"  they  would  say,  "also 
on  your  five  hundred  pounds  a  year." 

Frank  made  a  wicked  caricature  in  which  Charles  knelt 
humbly  at  her  feet.  "Make  me  your  footstool,"  he  was 
saying.  "Thanks,"  she  was  answering,  "that  will  complete 
the  suite." 

All  of  which  merely  added  fuel  to  the  flame.  He  felt  that 
they  maligned  her  every  time  he  saw  her,  and  he  made  a 
point  of  seeing  her  whenever  possible,  going  even  to  the 
Furniture  Emporium  to  buy  a  coal-scuttle,  where  indeed  he 
found  her  not  so  gracious  as  he  might  have  liked.  Well, 
perhaps  she  thought  he  was  reminding  her  she  was  a  shop- 
girl. Whereas  by  now  he  ranked  her  as  a  girl  above  her 
class,  seeking  to  make  up  for  lost  chances,  a  searcher  after 
truth,  a  love  of  romance,  a  dreamer  of  dreams  misunder- 
stood by  a  world  of  snobs.  That  serene  face  was  surely  an 
indication  of  a  fine  mind. 

The  problem  now  which  kept  him  awake  at  nights  was, 
how  far  could  he  go  ?  Did  he  really  love  the  girl,  and  what 
would  they  say  at  home  if  he  proposed  to  marry  her  ?  Not 
that  his  family's  opinion  mattered  much  to  him,  but  they 
would  make  things  most  unpleasant  for  his  wife.  His  sis- 
ters were  sure  to  imitate  her  accent,  making  it  out  more 
Cockney  than  it  really  was,  and  would  snub  her  if  they 
acknowledged  her  at  all.  That  would  be  rough  on  Milli- 
cent— he  thought  of  her  as  MilHcent  now.  Still,  he  could 
make  his  own  new  friends.  After  all  this  was  practical 
democracy — he  was  sick  of  class  feeling — they  could  surely 
face  the  world  together. 

The  only  cloud  in  the  sky  was  William  Williamson,  who 
still  wore  whiskers  and  white  spats,  and  on  close  acquaint- 
ance proved  to  have  a  genius  for  intrigue.  Whenever  there 
was  any  friction  at  the  Settlement,  Williamson  was  sure 
to  be  behind  it,  though  cleverly  under  cover.  On  the 
surface  he  was  every  one's  best  friend,  but  he  had  a  wav 
of  insinuating  motives  which  caused  endless  trouble.  He 
was,  however,  popular  with  those  who  thought  him  funny. 

Williamson  had  certainly  the  merit  of  persistence,  and 


DRUMS  AFAR 


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m 

i 
■4 

i 

I 


at  the  social  evenings  monopolized  the  much-sought  after 
Miss  Adair.  Fortunately  he  had  other  interests  as  well. 
He  liked  to  think  he  was  an  actor,  and  intrigued  himself 
into  the  stage  management  of  the  Dramatic  Club. 

Frank  in  the  meanwhile  was  making  headway  as  an  artist, 
and  to  his  delight  actually  had  a  drawing  accepted  by 
Punch.  His  help  on  the  literary  side  of  Pen  and  Pencil 
was  also  valuable,  and  Charles  was  happy  to  receive  some 
letters  praising  the  change  in  tone.  Nevertheless  the  num- 
ber of  subscribers  did  not  rise  and  the  five  thousand  pounds 
melted  as  the  snow. 

Frank  began  to  be  so  busy  that  he  dropped  the  Settlement, 
but  Charles  and  he  lunched  together  not  infrequently  at 
the  Reform,  the  Club  they  both  belonged  to.  Spring  found 
Charles  faithful  still  to  his  ideals,  and  mothlike  still  flitting 
around  the  flame.  Spring  indeed  found  him  tempestuously 
in  love.  Each  time  he  saw  the  tender  green  upon  the  trees, 
and  scented  the  fragrance  of  fresh  flowers,  and  heard  the 
birds  sing,  he  drifted  absent-mindedly  along,  thinking 
of  the  auburn  tresses  which  were  not  there.  Poetry  once 
more  became  his  safety-valve,  and  once  more  he  brought 
Jones's  inch  rule  into  play.  The  latter  at  last  began  to 
shake  his  head  when  Charles  produced  yet  another  sheaf. 

"The  only  way  I  can  stop  this,"  he  said,  "is  to  limit  you 
to  an  inch  and  three-quarters  and  pay  five  shillings  instead 
of  half  a  guinea.  These  twelve  line  heart  throbs  are  be- 
ginning to  be  too  damned  easy.  We  shall  have  to  start 
another  paper  soon  to  work  off  all  our  unused  verse,  and  I 
doubt  whether  your  respected  parent  would  stand  for  that. 
Indeed  if  he  follows  himself  the  tips  he  gives  in  his  Finan- 
cial column,  your  father  must  be  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy. 
I  myself  have  made  twice  my  salary  by  selling  when  he 
recommends  to  buy." 

Charles  gave  a  sickly  grin. 

"Thanks  for  the  hint,"  he  said.  "I  suspected  that  there 
was  something  underneath  that  generosity.  I  suppose  we'll 
have  to  give  the  old  man  the  sack,  but  first  of  all  I  want 
this  particular  poem  to  appear.    It  really  is  my  best,  and  I 


154 


DRUMS  AFAR 


don  t  care  what  happens  afterwards  if  this  is  only  printed." 

"Let's  have  a  look,"  said  Jones. 

Then  after  a  little,  he  said  r 

"Humph,  the  same  girl,  I  suppose.  Have  you  found  out 
yet  if  she  can  spell?  Never  investigated?  Well,  ycu  deserve 
the  worst.  A  man  like  you,  with  all  this  education,  spend- 
ing your  father's  money  on  the  Reform  of  British  Journal- 
ism, ready  to  kill  a  man  you  hardly  know  because  he  does 
not  write  like  Walter  Pater,  and  ready  to  love,  honour  and 
obey  a  woman  who  may  have  to  sign  her  name  with  a  cross. 
Charles  Fitzmorris,  I  am  surprised,  not  to  say  pained." 

"Well,  print  it,"  said  Charles,  "and  then  perhaps  I'll 
follow  your  advice." 

"At  least,"  said  Jones,  reading  the  poem  again,  "it  might 
have  been  worse." 

The  poem  duly  appeared,  was  admired  and  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  at  the  Settlement.  Charles  was  embarrassed 
at  the  praise  he  received,  and  yet  rather  liked  the  distinc- 
tion, hoping  that  Millicent  Adair  would  also  see  the  poem, 
and  also  like  it.  But  during  the  last  week  she  had  not 
shown  up,  and  in  spite  of  Jones's  sarcasm  he  was  too  shy 
even  to  send  it  to  her. 

Growing  desperate  at  last,  he  haunted  the  Street  in  which 
the  Emporium  was  located,  hoping  to  get  a  glimpse  of  her 
at  closing  time. 

But  there  were  several  exits,  and  the  one  he  waited  at 
was  not  the  one  reserved  for  those  who  were  "living  in." 
These,  moreover,  could  not  escape  till  they  had  partaken 
of  the  half-cooked  supper  which  was  part  of  their  miserable 
wage. 

Chancing  however  to  go  one  Thursday  afternoon  for  tea 
into  Lyons'  at  the  comer,  his  heart  leaped  as  he  saw  her 
sitting  alone.  She  caught  sight  of  him  at  the  same  time, 
blushed  and  smiled  at  him.  Taking  courage  in  both  hands 
he  went  and  asked  her  if  he  might  sit  at  her  table. 

"Please  do,"  she  said,  "i  was  just  thinking  about  you. 
Look,  I  have  last  week's  Pen  and  Pencil  with  me." 

This  was  beyond  his  wildest  hopes.     Surely  she  must 


i    Wj  I 


DRUMS  AFAR 


155 


S 


far 


fiad  avoided  speaking  to  her  of  his 
literary  work,  but  here  she  had  gone  so  far  as  to  buy  a 
copy  of  the  paper  containing  his  poem,  six  whole  pence,  a 
lot  out  of  a  shopgirl's  weekly  pittance. 

"Miss  Adair,"  he  said — ^then  to  the  waitress,  "Yes,  a 
cup  of  tea — "  "You  should  not  have  bought  a  copy. 
I  would  have  been  glad  to  give  it  to  you  if  I  thought  you 
took  an  interest  in  it.  Won't  you  let  me  put  your  name  on 
the  free  list?  I  am  a  director,  you  know,  and  can  easily 
arranp**  it.    Do  let  me  have  your  address." 

"Oh,  thank  you  so  much,"  she  answered  gratefully. 
"That  would  be  so  nice.  We  should  have  two  copies  then. 
You  see  I  did  not  really  not  pay  for  this — it  is  William's 
office  copy." 

"William?"  Hateful  name!  Was  that  William  Wil- 
liamson ? 

"I  think,"  she  continued,  "that  the  one  he  did  this  week 
was  the  best  of  all — it  is  just  fine." 

"The  what  who  did?"  asked  Charles,  rapidly  turning 
over  in  his  mind  the  contributions  appearing  in  that  num- 
ber. William  Williamson  ?  there  was  nothing  that  he  could 
identify,  certainly  with  that  detestable  person. 

"The  advertisement  for  Bunn's  Blue  Pills,"  she  answered. 
"Didn't  you  know  that  Mr.  Williamson  was  their  literary 
assistant?  I  think  his  style  elegant,  and  I  have  wanted  for 
some  time  to  ask  you  to  try  and  get  him  a  position  with 
a  better  salary.    He  just  gets  thirty  shillings  a  week." 

If  there  was  one  side  of  the  paper  that  Charles  disliked, 
it  was  the  advertising  side.  He  hated  Watson,  the  adver- 
tising manager,  whom  he  thought  a  bounder,  he  hated  the 
space  the  advertisements  took  up,  often  knocking  out  or 
cutting  down  his  own  contributions,  he  hated  the  puff  para- 
graphs about  motor  cars  and  toilet  articles,  appearing  as 
fill-ups  at  the  back  of  the  paper,  and  lowering  the  tone  of 
the  res 

When  therefore  she  talked  about  Bunn's  Blue  Pills, 
Charles  was  in  the  dark.  He  had  not  noticed  what  she 
referred  to. 


156 


DRUMS  AFAR 


>■':  ! 


it,"  he  said,  holding  his  hand  out  for  the 


"Let  me  see 
paper. 

She  passed  it,  a  comer  of  the  page  turned  down.  It  was 
illustrated  with  third  rate  drawings  of  the  human  form  in 
various  contorted  attitudes,  suffering  according  to  the  text 
from  acute  but  avoidable  pain.  The  letterpress  itself  ran 
as  follows: 

"Bunn's  Blue  Pills  came  to  the  modem  children  of  Israel 
like  manna  m  the  oasis.  They  are  like  Mecca  to  the  Arab 
steed  and  sweep  like  the  Assyrian  upon  the  fold  of  intesti- 
nal troubles.  Like  Orion  and  the  Pleiades,  Bunn's  Blue 
Pills  float  above  our  dark  and  troublous  life,  lighting  our 
way  to  the  carefree  digestion  of  the  cassowary,  in  whose 
spacious  stomach  a  stone  becomes  as  soft  and  succulent  as 
Turkish  Delight.  The  discovery  of  the  United  S  js  by 
Christopher  Columbus  was  nothing  as  to  this  world-upheav- 
ing discovery  by  Professor  Bunn,  who  stands  like  Moses 
upon  a  peak  in  Darien,  holding  his  rod  over  the  promised 
land  of  impregnable  digestions.  He  has  found  a  purgatory 
for  the  Inferno,  and  a  Canaan  for  the  catarrhal  affections. 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Adair  says, 

"  'For  years  I  was  the  despair  of  every  physician  and 
surgeon  in  Harley  Street.  I  saw  my  fortune  rapidly 
dwindling  in  hundred  guinea  fees.  They  dosed  me  with 
Greek  prescriptions  and  operated  on  me  fifty  times  till ' 

"Who  is  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Adair?"  asked  Charles,  unable  to 
stand  more. 

"An  aunt  of  mine,"  she  replied  with  glee.  "Don't  you 
think  it  was  clever  of  William  to  have  invented  that  about 
the  hundred  guinea  fees?  And  then  the  Assyrian  swooping 
down  on  the  fold— that's  Byron,  of  course— and  the  peak 
in  Darien— that's  Keats— real  literature— the  rest  of  course 
is  William." 

"I  didn't  think  it  was  possible,"  said  Charies  feebly,  as 
he  read  it  again. 

"Ah,  but  you  don't  know  William,"  she  replied.  "He  was 
the  most  original  student  of  his  time  when  he  took  the 
Correspondence  Course  in  English   Composition.      That's 


DRUMS  AFAR 


157 


what  the  professor  said.  I  can  si.ow  you  the  letter  in  which 
he  remarks  that  William  wrote  likc^  a  blend  of  Julius  Caesar 
with  Ouida  and  the  Book  of  Revelations.  William  has  that 
letter  framed  in  the  same  style  as  the  furniture  we  are 
buying  on  the  instalment  plan — Louis  Quartz  we  call  it  at 
the  Emporium.  Did  I  tell  you  that  we  were  married  last 
week?" 

"Married?" 

"Yes,  married.  I  always  wanted  to  be  the  wife  of  a 
literary  genius  and  William  won  my  heart  through  my 
head ;  but  I  do  want  him  to  get  the  recognition  he  deserves. 
Don't  you  think,  Mr.  Fitzmorris,  you  could  make  him 
assistant  editor.  I'm  sure  he  could  improve  your  paper — 
he  says  so  himself.  I've  so  often  wanted  to  speak  to  you 
about  William,  but  till  I  married  him  I  hadn't  the  right  to 
speak  for  him,  it  didn't  seem  dignified." 

So  that  explained  it  all!  The  scales  fell  from  his  eyes. 
What  an  escape!    The  very  thought  made  him  sick. 

Yet  it  was  not  in  his  nature  to  be  rude. 

There  was  something  pathetic  in  her  faith  in  her  William, 
bounder  though  he  was. 

"Give  me  your  address,"  he  said.  "I'll  speak  to  our  ad- 
vertising man  about  your  husband.  But  at  present,  I'm 
sorry  I  can't  hold  out  any  prospect  of  editorial  work. 

She  loked  disappointed,  but  thanked  him  and  gave  him 
the  address.    And  so  they  parted. 

"Here  endeth  the  second  lesson,"  said  Charles  to  himself 
as  soon  as  he  was  out  in  the  opeti  air.  Then  he  tore  up 
the  card  with  the  address  into  little  pieces.  "Not  so  long 
as  I  live !"  he  muttered,  as  he  statn|)ed  them  underfoot. 

Hurrying  to  the  Club,  he  telephoned  Frank. 

"For  God's  sake,  Frank,"  he  said,  "come  and  dine  with 
me. 

"Right  you  are,"  said  Frank.  "Let's  make  a  night  of  it. 
Had  another  drawing  taken  by  Punch,  and  wish  to  cele- 
brate. What  do  you  say  to  the  Empire  ?  Pretty  good  show, 
according  to  the  papers,  and  it's  always  bright  and  cheerful 
there.    All  serene — seven  o'clock — so  long." 


St. 


158 


DRUMS  AFAR 


M 


Britbt  and  cheerful  I  certainly  he  needed  something  to 
distract  his  thoughts. 

What  an  ass  he  had  been!  To  think  it  should  have 
take::  him  a  year  to  make  this  discovery.  If  only  he  had 
followed  Jones's  advice  and  put  her  to  the  test. 

That  Williamson  of  all  men  should  be  her  ideal  I 

What  was  that  Jones  had  said?  "Between  the  educated 
and  the  semi-educated  there  is  a  triple  wall  of  barbed  wire  " 

When  Frank  arrived  he  saw  that  something  had  occurred 
.to  upset  his  friend,  and  it  did  not  take  long  to  find  the 
reason.  Frank  never  had  much  faith  in  Millicent  whose 
airs  he  thought  insufferable,  and  when  he  read  her  WU- 
ham's  masterpiece  the  humour  of  it  all  overcame  ccnsid- 
eration  for  Charles's  feelings  and  he  collapsed  with 
laughter. 

"Save  me!  Save  me!"  he  said,  the  tears  running  down 
his  cheeks  This  is  a  classic.  Let  us  drink  the  health  of 
London  s  latest  literary  star.  She  is  right  in  calling  him  a 
genius.  And  yet,"  he  continued,  recovering  himself,  "you 
have  only  to  read  the  fashion  columns  in  your  own  pet 
paper  to  see  that  this  is  the  kind  of  slush  that  women  dote 
on.  This  is  the  language  Daphne  Dewdrop  writes  in  about 
hats  and  gowns,  and  all  that  William  has  done  has  been  to 
adapt  It  to  the  sale  of  pills.  You  divinity  has  had  no 
other  mental  food  since  she  put  up  her  hair.  You  can't 
expect  her  to  acquire  the  Oxford  attitude  to  Ufe  behind 
a  London  counter." 

"Very  possible,"  said  Charies,  "but  that  does  not  bring 
me  back  my  lost  ideal.  How  would  you  like  to  find  the 
woman  you  lo\ed  had  the  intellect  of  an  Easter  Egg?  It's 
funny  for  you,  but  it's  hell  for  me.  Frank,  old  top,  I'm 
going  to  take  to  drink."  ^ 

"Good  idea !"  said  Frank.  "But  this  is  my  party.  There's 
a  particular  kind  of  fizz  which  will  make  you  forget  home 
and  mother  quicker  than  anything  else  I  know— German, 
I  believe,  and  made  out  of  rotten  apples.  Waiter,  let's  have 
the  wine  list." 

Warmed  by  the  first  glass,  Charles  saw  the  dinner  and 


DRUMS  AFAR 


159 


the  world  in  general  in  a  rosier  light,  and  could  discuss  the 
tragedy  with  more  composure. 

"Fact  is,  Frank,"  he  said,  "we're  both  of  us  intellectual 
prigs.  Style  is  only  an  acrobatic  skill  in  manipulating  lan- 
guage, and  has  no  more  connection  with  the  moral  qualities 
of  a  husband  than  Norman  ancestors  or  a  fat  income.  I 
don't  suppose  one's  conversation  with  one's  wife  at  break- 
fast centres  round  the  place  of  George  Meredith  in  English 
literature  so  much  as  the  health  of  the  baby  and  the  fresh- 
ness of  the  egg.  After  she  is  the  mother  of  two,  even  the 
sweetest  girl  graduate  talks  more  about  her  servants  and 
the  price  of  clothes  tlian  of  the  decay  of  Kipling  and  the 
split  infinitive.  She  doesn't  love  him  less  because  he  can't 
dam  a  stocking  or  beat  down  the  butcher." 

"Wise  philosophy,"  said  Frank.  "We  put  our  girls  upon 
the  pedestal  we  really  think  of  for  ourselves.  We  make 
them  in  our  own  image.  Damn  the  split  infinitive.  Let's 
split  another  bottle." 


CHAPTER  XVI 


i 

f]  i 


WHEN  Charles  informed  the  Warden  that  he  in- 
tended to  give  up  his  rooms  in  the  Settlement, 
the  latter  expressed  no  surprise. 
"The  fact  is,  Fitzmorris,"  he  said,  "you  did 
not  come  here  altogether  in  the  right  spirit.    It  was  not  the 
workmg  classes  you  desired  to  elevate  so  much  as  a  par- 
ticular one  of  them  who,  as  I  suppose  you  have  discovered 
has  preferred  not  to  be  elevated,  at  least  to  the  height  you 
mtended.     Your  blushes  show  that  I  am  a  pretty  good 
guesser.    Well,  I  don't  blame  you  for  being  human,  and  for 
your  own  sake  and  I  am  not  sorry  it  has  turned  out  the  way 
It  has.    She  was  a  hopeless  case,  just  like  ninety  per  cent  of 
our  other  Associates— you  see  I  have  no  illusions.    Yet  ten 
per  cent  is  worth  going  after— the  greatest  of  all  reformers 
said  that  he  would  rather  win  the  one  than  the  ninety 
and  nine. 

After  leaving  the  Settlement,  Charles  thought  at  first  of 
going  back  to  his  family  at  Richmond,  but  as  he  now  went 
to  so  many  first  nights  decided  that  Richmond  was  too  far 
away,  and  took  a  bachelor  flat  in  St.  James's  Court.  Once 
a  week  he  prowled  round  in  search  of  "copy"  with  Frank 
taking  subjects  which  Frank  could  illustrate  and  he  could 
amusingly  describe— the  street  market  for  stolen  bicycles  a 
day  with  the  militants,  the  new  cabarets,  the  craze  for 
picture  theatres.  In  this  way  he  came  to  have  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  London  life,  and  being  by  no  means  unobser- 
ant  came  to  be  of  genuine  help  to  Jones. 

Then  he  thought  of  a  holiday  in  Germany,  revisiting  and 
renewing  friendship  with  motherly  old  Frau  Pastorin.  He 
wrote  to  her,  asking  how  she  was,  how  Gottingen  was,  and 
if  any  of  the  people  he  had  known  were  there  still. 

When  he  read  her  answer,  he  decided  to  stay  in  England. 
Circumstances  had  evidently  changed. 

l6o 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i6i 


1  Pi 


"My  dear  young  friend, 

"How  pleasant  it  is  to  think  you  have  not  forgotten  Frau 
Pastorin  in  this  far-off  Gottingen.  A  dozen  times  have  I 
put  on  my  spectacles  and  smiled  as  I  read  your  charming 
letter,  so  full  of  warm  feeling  and  so  tender  in  its  thought 
of  an  old  housewife  such  as  myself.  Yes,  dear  Emma  is 
married— happily  married  to  a  rising  doctor.  She  now  lives 
in  Berlin  in  a  great  apartment  with  two  servants.  Georg 
has  gone  to  sea  again  after  being  home  once  more;  his 
manners,  I  fear,  have  not  improved.  Dear  Karl  still  studies 
chemistry,  but  makes  his  doctor  examinations  this  year 
and  will  very  likely  remain  in  Gottingen  as  assistant  to  his 
Professor.  Karl  has  been  a  good  son  to  me,  and  my  moth- 
er's heart  rejoices  at  his  progress.  Some  day,  I  feel  sure, 
he  will  himself  be  a  professor. 

"So  much  for  ourselves,  but  Gottingen,  alas,  has  greatly 
changed !  It  is  not  so  much  the  physical  as  the  moral  change 
which  terrifies  me.  No  longer  is  there  the  old  friendly 
welcome  for  the  foreign  student.  The  Russians  in  par- 
ticular are  looked  on  with  suspicion,  and  are  frequently  in- 
sulted. Karl  says  that  the  mischief  started  with  an  Ameri- 
can doctor  who  last  year  founded  an  International  Student 
Club,  the  object  of  which  was  to  promote  the  cause  of 
Peace.  The  Club  had  many  members  among  the  foreigners, 
but  the  German  students  held  aloof  from  it  The  climax 
came  through  a  visit  from  the  famous  Norman  Ang  )11,  who 
gave  an  address  in  English  on  the  subject  'He  Who  Loses, 
Wins.'  His  meeting  was  almost  broken  up  by  some  of  our 
Corps  Students  who  shouted  'DeutschI  Deutsch!'  These 
organized  a  countermeeting  very  shortly  afterwards,  at 
which  two  thousand  students  and  others  were  present  to 
applaud  those  who  denounced  the  peacemakers.  So  great 
was  the  excitement  that  the  International  Student  Club  was 
ordered  to  be  disbanded,  and  double  fees  are  now  charged 
to  forcip  students  attending  the  laboratory  courses.  The 
chauvinism  here  has  become  so  great  that  many  of  our 
friends  are  leaving.  My  English  and  American  boarders 
are  very  nice  to  me,  but  they  find  it  unpleasant  at  the  lee- 


l62 


DRUMS  AFAR 


tures  and  even  at  the  Stadtpark,  so  I  cannot  blame  them 
if  they  leave  our  University  of  Gottingen  to  the  Germans. 
It  IS  true  that  this  unpleasantness  is  directed  chiefly  at  the 
Russians,  but  there  are  some  who  are  impolite  to  every 
foreigner.  ' 

"Fortunately  for  myself  I  am  no  longer  dependent  on  my 
pension,  which  indeed  I  have  just  sold  to  another  lady 
For  in  the  world  of  letters  I  am  making  headway  and  earn 
a  comfortable  income  from  my  pen.  I  have  a  commission 
to  translate  some  of  your  English  authors  and  would  be 
glad  if  you  could  send  me  novels  by  your  clever  young 
men.  But  it  grieves  me  to  think  that  foolish  student  quar- 
rels should  separate  us  Germans  from  our  English  and 
Amencan  friends.  Dark  thunderclouds  are  threatening 
and  all  over  the  land  there  are  rumours  of  an  approaching 
storm.    God  grant  it  may  never  break ! 

"Karl,  who  contributes  articles  to  the  Export  Zeitung  of 
Leipzig  says  that  war  between  Germany  and  Russia  would 
set  back  German  industry  by  twenty  years,  even  if  Ger- 
many won.  In  the  meanwhile,  dear  friend,  we  all  hope  for 
the  best. 

"But  let  me  close  this  letter  with  more  pleasant  thoughts 
I  treasure  the  photograph  you  left  with  us,  and  every 
time  I  write  about  England,  my  memory  calls  up  the  fair- 
haired,  blue-eyed,  rosy-cheeked,  clean-shaven,  kindly  Ox- 
ford man,  who  for  three  short  months  brought  sunshine 
mto  my  house  and  into  my  heart.  I  can  still  hear  his 
good-natured  laugh  when  he  found  he  had  made  a  faux 
pas  through  ignorance  of  German,  and  my  memory  rings 
sweet  with  the  old  English  ballads  he  used  to  sing  to  my 
faltering  accompaniment.  You  do  not  say  that  you  are 
niarned,  or  ever  engaged  to  be  married.  Are  you  still  so 
shy  ?  Can  you  not  ask  me,  a  bom  matchmaker,  to  visit  you 
m  England  and  find  for  you  the  ideal  maiden  who  will  make 


you  happy? 


'Ever  your  devoted  friend. 


"Amaua  Schmidt. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i^ 


Charles  read  the  first  part  of  the  letter  to  Jones. 
"What  do  you  think  of  getting  out  a  scare  number," 
he  suggested,  "and  call  it  'The  Coming  War  between  Slav 
and  Teuton'." 

"Not  a  bad  idea,"  said  the  editor.  "We  want  something 
to  wake  up  the  circulation.  By  Jingo,  a  war  like  that 
would  give  us  new  life!  We  should  have  gone  under  if  it 
had  not  been  for  the  Boer  War,  and  the  Russo-Japanese 
gave  us  quite  a  fillip.  The  Balkan  fights  cost  more  than 
they  were  worth  and  then  missed  fire,  but  a  Russo-German 
tussle  would  be  a  regular  godsend." 

"You  bloodthirsty  brute!"  exclaimed  Charles.  "What  if 
England  herself  should  get  dragged  in  ?" 

"Not  a  ghost  of  a  chance  with  the  Liberals  in  power. 
Asqtiith  will  sit  tight,  and  we  shall  sell  all  we  have  to  sell 
to  both  sides.  The  English  have  a  genius  for  getting  rich 
while  other  people  are  winning  glory.  Let  these  continental 
fellows  fire  a  few  million  shells  at  each  other,  and  leave  us 
to  get  the  business." 

After  a  fortnight  Jones  turned  out  a  war-scare  number 
which  had  the  desired  effect.  Charles  was  pleased  at  the 
part  he  had  taken  in  the  number,  and  began  to  take  more 
interest  than  ever  in  his  work. 

The  memory  of  Viola  made  him  pay  particular  attention 
to  Woman's  Suffrage,  and  he  urged  Jones  to  illustrate  the 
movement,  much  to  that  worthy's  disgust. 

"Won't  sell  an  extra  copy,"  he  said.  "Half  of  them  are 
actresses  out  of  a  job.  What  we  want  is  pictures  of 
actresses  on  the  job,  and  known  to  the  Johnnies— the  good- 
lookmg  ones  on  the  picture  postcards  and  in  the  advertise- 
ments for  tooth  powder." 

y^^  ^'^ere  was  sometimes  unexpected  revenue  froa 
Charles's  fads.  He  noticed  for  example  that  a  rich  Ameri- 
can Suffragist,  Mrs.  Schomberg,  whose  aaughter  had  soared 
mto  a  ducal  embrace,  was  due  on  a  visit  to  Englazid.  Before 
leaving  New  York  she  had  announced  in  public  that  she  so 
hated  England  for  its  treatment  of  the  militants  that  she 
would  not  spend  a  cent  on  English  soil.     From  what  he 


iiil 


!'■    i 


f  i    J 


i64 


DRUMS  AFAR 


gathered  from  accounts  of  the  lady  in  American  Sunday 
new^pers  he  concluded  that  her  proposed  holiday  was 
tmged  with  a  desire  for  notoriety,  a  feeling  not  uncommon 
in  English  as  well  as  American  society.  Togiveherportraita 
tull  front  page,  to  trace  her  purchases  in  London,  to  write 
a  racy  story  on  "Our  American  Mothers-in-Law"  was  to 
make  the  journalistic  hit  of  the  week.  There  was  a  run  on 
the  number,  a  particularly  large  order  coming  from  the 
bookstall  near  Mrs.  Schomberg's  hotel,  and  Jones  began 
to  treat  Charies  with  respect. 

The  only  drawback  to  Charies's  content  was  the  growing 
prospect  of  seeing  an  advertisement  of  Bunn's  Blue  Pills 
m  every  number.     Each  of  these  seemed  more  horrible 
than  tiie  last,  paries  asked  Watson,  the  advertising  mana- 
ger, If  he  could  not  break  the  contract  and  throw  them  out 
but  the  mere  suggestion  made  the  latter  apoplectic 
•It's  the  only  thing  that  keeps  the  paper  alive,"  he  said. 
You  might  as  well  commit  suicide  at  once." 
"One  can  always  commit  murder,"  retorted  Charies 
Many  a  time  Charies  sat  over  the  fire  in  his  rooms 
wondering  whether  he  would  ever  meet  the  giri.    So  far  his 
expenence  with  the  fair  sex  had  not  been  flattering  to  his 
self-esteem     Viola  had  treated  him  as  a  youth  in  knicker- 
bockers.    Miss  Raymond,  the  Chicago  giri,  had  snubbed 
him  as  an  inefficient  Englishman.     Millicent  Adair  had 
overiooked  him  for  a  half-educated  buflFoon.    And  yet  he 
Tu   1  ,^*\"o*  bad-looking,  he  was  strong  and  manly 
and  healAy,  he  could  hold  his  own  in  conversation  with 
most— What  was  the  matter? 

Perhaps  it  was  his  own  fault.  Perhaps  he  had  been 
unwise  to  evade  his  sisters'  friends-they  might  not  be  so 
violet  as  tiiey  were  painted.  Perhaps  he  should  give  more 
time  to  afternoon  teas  in  drawing-rooms,  call  on  some  of 
these  suffragettes  he  met  in  Fleet  Street— they  seemed  to 
live  on  tea.  Heavens  no!  He  wanted  something  more 
robust  than  that.  ^^ 


I 


^^ 


;  fr 


CHAPTER  XVII 

WINTER  passed  without  any  further  heart-adven- 
ture, but  when  spring  warmed  into  summer,  out 
shone  the  sun  again  upon  romance. 
It  began  with  the  Morning  Post. 
"What  do  you  think  of  this  ?"  said  Jones  one  day,  point- 
ing to  a  concert  advertisement. 
Charles  read: — 

UNDER  NO  PATRONAGE. 

Song  Concert 

in  the 

Queen's  Small  Hall 

by  a 

Contralto 

Hitherto  Unknown 

Miss  Madeline  Raymond 

of  Chicago 

assisted  by 

Ivanoff  Tschovkovsky 

Violinist 

Friday — June  30th 

8.30  p.m. 

Concert  Direction  Mayhew 

Tickets  half  a  guinea  at  Ashton's 

and  all  libraries 

"Under  No  Patronage?"  said  Charles.  "Is  this  the 
millennium?"  Then  the  significance  of  the  name  of  the 
singer  dawned  upon  htm. 

"By  Jove,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  believe  I  know  her  I" 

"Good-looking?" 

"You  bet!" 

i6S 


i66 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"Can  she  sing?" 

'"She  could  two  years  ago.  Since  then  she  has  studied 
m  Rome  and  Milan,  probably  also  in  Paris,  but  I  lost  touch 
with  her,  and  can't  exactly  tell." 

Madeline  Raymond ! 

A  flood  of  memories  poured  upon  him.  He  recalled  as 
If  It  were  only  yesterday  that  svelte  figure  in  the  Kleber- 
platz  at  Strasburg,  that  reckless  chin,  those  dark  liquid 
eyes,  that  stunning  raven  hair— and  that  voice! 

"Jones,"  he  said  with  sudden  determination,  "we  must 
give  her  a  page." 

"A  page!  And  this  on  Tuesday!  Ust  forme  goes  to 
press  to-night.  What  would  Watson  sav?  Does  Mayhew 
advertise  with  us  now?" 

"Damn  Watson,"  said  Charles,  remembering  many 
clashes,  and  particularly  Bunn's  Blue  Pills.  "If  you  are 
afraid,  I'll  do  this  off  my  own  bat.  I'm  going  to  take  a 
taxi  and  fetch  her  picture.  Telephone  to  Mayhew  that  I'm 
coming." 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  found  the  concert  manager 
waiting  for  him  and  was  pleased-to-meet-you'd  by  a  tall 
stout  elderly  man  with  square  jaws  and  aquiline  nose,  who 
offered  a  card  bearing  the  imprint 

"Henry  Raymond  Jr. 

Raymond  Printing  Company, 

Chicago,  111." 

"Henry  Raymond  Jr.?"  questioned  Charies. 

"Sure  thing!  Presume  you  wish  to  do  a  write  up  of  my 
daug:hter,  and  use  a  cut.    Madeline,  where  are  the  photos  ?" 

Mjss  Raymond,  who  was  writing  at  a  desk  with  her  back 
to  the  door  when  Charies  entered,  but  whose  silky,  black 
piled-up  hair  was  unmistakable,  rose  to  the  call  and  came 
forward  with  a  parcel  in  her  hand.  Then,  seeing  who  it 
was, 

"Mr.  Fitzmorris!  Well,  isn't  this  great!  Where  did  you 
drop  from?    Father,  this  is  a  gentleman  we  met  at  Stras- 


DRUMS  AFAR 


167 


I 


burg,  quite  a  singer  himself.  Mother  has  been  dippy  to 
see  him  ever  since." 

"That's  bully,"  said  Henry  Raymond  Jr.,  "I  thought  he 
was  a  newspaper  man." 

"So  he  is,"  said  Charles,  "and  in  a  hurry  too.  I  happen 
to  be  director  of  an  illustrated  paper,  and  I  want  your 
picture,  Miss  Raymond,  for  this  wedc's  issue.  It  may 
help  you  with  your  concert." 

"Now,  that's  what  I  call  a  friend,"  she  said,  blushing  and 
smiling  so  that  he  thought  she  had  never  seemed  so  attrac- 
tive. Charmingly  dressed,  her  hat  and  gown  were  after 
all  no  more  fetching  than  her  face,  which  with  its  slightly 
lifted  eyebrows,  its  jet-black  melting  eyes,  its  warm  skin 
and  half-open  arch  of  a  mouth  made  a  deadly  appeal  to  his 
young  heart.  He  was  glad  to  see  that  her  nose  was  not 
powdered.  She  had  a  bundle  of  large  photographs,  Ameri- 
can style,  each  in  its  special  folded  wrapper.  One  in  par- 
ticular made  an  attractive  picture. 

"Hits  you  in  the  eye  all  right,"  he  said,  holding  it  at 
arm's  length,  "but  it's  marked  copyright." 

"We'll  fix  that,"  said  the  father.  "Just  acknowledge  the 
photographer." 

"Now  have  you  a  piano  handy?"  said  Charles.  "Let  me 
hear  you  sing." 

"Hold  on!"  interrupted  the  father.  "Two  dollars  fifty— 
I  mean  half  a  guinea  next  Friday,  young  man." 

"Nonsense,  father,"  said  th>  daughter,  laughing,  "this  is 
an  old  friend.  Besides  as  a  newspaper  man  he's  entitled 
to  a  pass." 

"Well,  have  it  your  own  way." 

"You  see,"  explained  Charies,  "my  paper.  Pen  and  Pencil, 
comes  out  on  Friday  morning,  and  I  want  to  be  on  the  safe 
side.  I  want  to  hear  how  Miss  Raymond  sings,  so  that  I 
can  write  something  about  her." 

"Go  ahead  then,  if  that's  so.    Madeline,  get  busy." 

Charles  thrilled  to  hear  her  voice  again.  It  was  fuller 
and  rounder  now,  more  velvety  and  with  a  timbre  which  he 
did  not  remember  before.    She  sang  Tschaikowsky's  "To 


I 


i68 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I  I 


..  r. 


IaL^S'!r"'"/'"J°/^"  ^°"^  "^^'•^  '^P*"^^  ^^d  at  the 
Se  "^  expression  than  he  remembered 

^^"Perfect."  said  Charles,  sighing  with  the  delight  in  such 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  and  as  she  said  it  he  saw  the 
tears  m  her  eyes.    She  must  indeed  have  put  her  he?rt  imo 

Time,  however,  was  passing. 

^JT°I'"  "i^  ^^^'■'*''  "^°  '"^  the  favour  of  coming  with 
me  to  the  office.  IT^erc  is  so  little  time  to  spare  Lnd  you 
could  give  me  an  interview  in  the  taxi "  ^ 

No  you  don't,"  said  Henry  Raymond.    "There  mav  be 
other  reporters,  and  my  daughter  must  be  on  tap     Here^ 
a  type-wntten  stor^  I've  gotten  ready,  and  if  you  w^n 
more  nng  up  Paddington  240.5  "  ^ 

soZSll''''f'^,'f  ^'"^  "^^  '^"«^^^'  "Mr.  Fitzmorris  wants 
somethmg  special,  I  am  going  with  him,  anj  if  any  others 

tlri'^''^V^'?  ''"  ^  ^°'"^  ^^'^-    Beside    ^want  to 

"Half  an  hour  or  so,"  said  the  latter. 

to  whaf  sh^had  Ho*'  °-^"  ^^  Pl'*^  ^'^  ^'^  q"^«ti°ns  « 
10  wnat  she  had  done  since  they  last  met. 

You  never  answered  my  last  letter,"  he  said 

Come  now,"  she  replied,  evading  him.    "This  is  an  in- 

on'my'  TareV'^Rr^r'^"'    ^^"^^  ^^^  -"-"ions 
Brahms."  Remember  to  say  that  I  just  dote  on 

he  mTde  lr.L!fr^'f '  ^' I'^^l**  ^''  *°  ^^'* '"  *he  taxi  while 
s'ai^he  tolH  ?     'T'  ^';^  ^^'  "**°^-    Then  rush«.g  up- 

u'Jut      n  -1°"^'  *°  "'^'^e  it  the  front  page. 
h.«I  '^'  ^'1  fixed,"  said  Charles  as  he  stepped  in  again 

c^urs'e  fou'll  d?'"^"!'  *'"'"^  *^  ^"^^^  ^«  ^°  ^^ek  '^Of 
course  you  11  dme  with  me  one  night?" 

Delighted,  I'm  surt-I  just  love  your  London  restau- 


M  i 


DRUMS  AFAR 


169 


1? 


rf5:str 
hi  re.s'; 

.IK"   "J 


i< 


"Have  you  been  to  Julien's  yet?" 

"Why,  no." 

"Well  then,  Julien's,  on  Saturday  night,  after  you  have 
got  over  the  excitement,  and  then  follow  on  with  a  theatre." 

"And  then  you'll  have  supper  with  us  at  the  hotel." 

"And  then,"  said  Charles,  not  to  be  outdone,  "I'll  take 
>ou  to  "'lurch  on  Sunday — this  is  not  a  proposal." 

l.'er  i;"  v/as  very  musical.  She  shot  her  eyes  at  him 
a-ra.'   r.      I'l  answered. 

s  j;i  eed,  it  would  have  to  be  not  a  church  but  a 

Tt  i  me  the  address  of  a  good  press-clippitig 

v^     all  want  all  the  notices  I  can  get  to  show  my 

ii!  Chicago." 
e  yru  going  back  so  soon?" 

"Why  yes,  I  suppose  I  oughtn't  to  give  away  the  game, 
nm  ihis  if  just  a  stunt  of  Father's  to  get  my  picture  in  the 
pai)ers.  The  concert  agent  said  it  couldn't  be  done  unless 
we  got  a  duchess.  Father  said  he'd  do  it  without  and  make 
money  on  it.  Anyway  he  can  afford  to  lose — He's  pretty 
well  fixed— Raymond  Printing  Company  has  two  hundred 
employes,  and  the  plant  is  always  working  to  capacity.  I 
know  now  that  I  can  never  be  a  great  prima  f^onna,  but  I 
can  sing  as  well  as  most,  and  father  says  he  could  put  the 
'all  in  his  vest  pocket." 

"This  is  a  different  attitude  from  your  Strasburg  days," 
said  Charles.  "Don't  you  remember  how  you  used  to  sniff 
at  everything  E>iTlisH?" 

"That  was  tvo  vears  ago/'  she  answered  with  a  laugh. 

"I've  grown  wisv,  m  my  old  age.    I  found  out  what  you 

said  about  the  London  hall-mark  was  correct.    The  strange 

hing  is  that  a  nation  so  unmusical  should  set  the  pace  in 

musical  opinion." 

"It's  not  the  English  here  who  set  the  pace,"  said  Charles. 
"It's  the  Jews  of  Himpstead  and  Bayswater  and  Park 
Lane,  to  whom  we  give  a  habitation  asij  a  name.  By  the 
way,  how  is  your  mother?  It  was  rude  of  me  not  to  ask 
for  her  before." 

..^iVther's  feeding  fine.     Eer  only  grief  .a  that  she  is 


K' 


170 


DRUMS  AFAR 


putting  on  flcsL  She  will  be  tickled  to  death  to  meet  you 
again  on  Fnday.  Won't  you  come  in  and  say  hullo  to  her 
over  the  telephone  ?" 

"Afraid  I  haven't  time.  Must  rush  back  and  write  this 
article.  Here  we  are  again  at  Mayhew's.  See  you  again 
on  Fnday,"  he  added,  as  he  handed  her  out  of  the  taxi. 
"No,  I  won't  come  in.  Send  me  a  seat  in  the  fourth  row, 
and  I'll  promise  to  cheer.  Remember  me  kindly  to  your 
mother.    Au  revoir." 

Hurrying  back  to  the  office,  he  wrote  a  eulogy  which 
made  Madeline  Raymond  out  to  be  another  Kirkby  Lunn 

"How  much  of  this  is  true?"  asked  Jones  as  he  read  the 
manuscript.  "Is  this  some  more  of  your  damned  poetry?  I 
don't  think  much  of  it. 

"There  be  none  of  Beauty's  daughters 

With  a  magic  like  thee. 
And  like  music  on  the  waters 
Is  thy  sweet  voice  to  me." 

"That's  not  mine,"  protested  Charles.    "That's  Byron." 
"Oh,  Byron!    All  right,  I  suppose  it  will  have  to  go  in. 
Put  me  down  for  a  piece  of  the  wedding  cake." 

If  Charles  had  not  been  used  to  Jones's  chaff,  he  might 
have  been  vexed.  A,:d  yet  he  was  not  in  the  mood  to  be 
angry  with  any  one.  Swept  into  the  limbo  of  forgotten 
toings  was  the  unrequited  affection  for  MilHcent  Adair. 
Here  m  Madeline  Raymond  was  a  girl  more  of  his  own 
kind-not  separated  by  the  charm  of  class— an  American, 
but  after  all  were  not  Americans  first  cousins?  Viola 
Mainwaring  had  married  an  American  and  not  regretted  it 
—she  wrote  perfectly  happy  letters  to  her  brother  Frank, 
and  had  noi  yet  quarrelled  with  her  mother-in-law. 

Then  "Hold  on,  Charles,"  he  said  to  himself,  "this  is 
going  too  fast.    She  never  encouraged  you  much  in  Stras- 
burg.  and  all  she  has  done  now  is  to  be  nice  because  you  are 
going  to  pablish  her  picture." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


171 


Nevertheless  the  image  of  her  and  the  memory  of  her 
voice  broke  his  slumber. 

Next  day  Watson,  the  advertising  manager,  who  was  also 
a  director,  swooped  down  upon  him  with  wrath  on  his  brow. 

He  was  known  as  the  "Walking  Tornado"  from  his 
affectation  of  tremendous  haste. 

"What  in  blazes  did  you  do  this  for?"  he  thundered. 
"You  are  only  one  of  the  directors,  not  the  Board,  and  this 
should  have  been  my  sanction.  We  must  keep  down  ex- 
penses." 

"All  right,  old  chap,"  said  Charles  soothingly.  "I  can 
assure  you  this  new  singer  will  be  the  rage,  and  we  must 
not  let  any  other  paper  discover  her.  How  many  tickets  do 
you  want  for  your  clients?" 

This  was  an  inspiration.  Fearing  that  the  concert  might 
be  a  fiasco  Charles  had  bought  a  hundred  tickets  on  the 
way  to  the  office,  without  making  plans  how  to  get  rid  of 
so  many.  Watson  however  fell  to  the  snarer,  and  Charles 
had  only  forty  left  before  the  day  was  done.  These  he 
sent  to  his  own  family,  to  his  brother-in-law,  to  the  Main- 
warings,  to  Roberts  the  third  director,  and  to  acquaintances 
on  whom  he  could  depend  to  go  to  any  entertainment  which 
cost  them  nothing. 

The  clouds  were  not  long  in  clearing.  The  Daily  Mail 
came  out  on  Thursday  morning  with  a  leading  article  on 
the  English  attitude  to  music. 

"Who  Miss  Madeline  Raymond  may  be,  we  do  not 
know  or  care — she  may  be  another  Julia  Ravogli  or  croak 
like  a  frog.  But  the  announcement  of  her  concert  might 
very  well  be  the  ind  of  patronage  in  music,  just  as  Dr. 
Samuel  Johnson's  famous  letter  to  Lord  Chesterfield  was 
the  deathblow  to  patronage  in  letters.  We  fear  however 
that  hers  is  a  voice  crying  in  the  wilderness,  for  music  in 
London  whether  at  the  opera  or  in  the  concert-hall  is  merely 
an  appanage  of  the  Season  and  an  excuse  for  seeing  the 
coronets  of  the  Great.  Tetrazzini  first  drew  the  crowd  here 
not  because  of  her  perfect  voice  but  because  she  was  re- 


172 


DRUMS  AFAR 


ported  to  have  received  five  hundred  pounds  for  sinrine 
one  night  at  the  reception  of  a  duchess.  Without  the  aid 
of  titled  patronage,  musical  talent  would  have  little  chance 
of  t)eing  heard  in  this  the  greatest  city  in  the  world." 

The  directors'  meeting  on  Friday  passed  off  peaceably 
enough.  Roberts  was  cynical,  but  neither  he  nor  Watson 
could  deny  that  the  lady  was  not  a  public  character.  Curi- 
osity indeed  was  widely  aroused,  every  seat  in  the  hall  was 
hlled,  and  the  musical  critics  turned  up  in  force 

n  '^^"'i,.'''?!"''*  ^^^.  °^  ^'*^  ^  creditable  rendering  of 
Dvoraks  Humoreske"  and  then  Madeline  Raymond  her- 
self came  on,  led  by  her  father. 

Charles  had  sent  her  a  bouquet  of  red  roses,  and  his  heart 
beat  high  to  see  her  carry  this  on  to  the  platform.  She 
was  dressed  in  corsage  and  skirt  c  f  mauve  silk  under  a  tunic 
of  silver  brocade  edged  with  black  sable  and  clasped  at  the 
girdle  with  a  large  bow  strung  with  pearls.  The  sable 
carried  on  the  jet-black  note  of  her  hair,  startling  in  its 
intensity.  " 

"If  she  can  sing  as  well  as  she  can  dress,  she'll  do."  he 
overheard  a  lady  in  the  seat  behind  him  say. 

Without  a  trace  of  nervousness  she  sang  the  dream-song 
Traurne,     Wagner's  haunting  melody.     A  spirit  of  en 
chanted  melancholy  seemed  to  pervade  her  voice,  and  a  sigh 
rather  than  the  usual  careless  applause  followed  the  last 
tull  tones.    Then  came  Brahms's  cradle  song: 

"Guten  Abend,  gut*  Nacht, 
Mit  Rosen  bedacht." 

^Z  ^^,ll,^'^''y^^  w'th  tender  animation  as  she  sang, 
and  the  bell-hke  tones  of  her  upper  register  cleared  the  sad 
atmosphere  of  the  first  song. 

An  interval  of  violin  was  followed  by  two  operatic  songs 
from  Saint-.Sarns  ".Samson  and  Delilah"— "Mon  cccur 
souvre  a  ta  voix"  and  "Printemps  qui  commence"-ren- 
dered  with  such  charm  that  an  encore  was  demanded     For 


DRUMS  AFAR 


173 


that  she  gave  an  English  song— perhaps  it  was  American- 
very  sweet,  in  which  the  words  ran : 

The  sweetest  flower  that  blows 
I  give  you  as  we  part ; 
For  you  it  is  a  rose, 
For  me  it  is  my  heart. 

The  fragrance  it  exhales 
(Ah  if  you  only  knew!) 
Which  but  in  dying  fails — 
It  is  my  love  for  you. 

She  lifted  the  bouquet  he  had  given  her  as  if  scenting 
its  fragrance,  and  though  she  sang  without  looking  at  him 
there  was  surely  some  thought  in  this  for  him. 

During  the  interval  that  followed,  Charles  shook  hands 
with  some  of  those  to  whom  he  had  sent  tickets.  They  all 
expressed  themselves  delighted,  and  the  Warden  wished 
the  lady  to  sing  at  the  Settlement  one  Sunday  evening. 

Watson  was  there  with  a  bevy  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
dressed. 

"I  forgive  you,"  he  said  in  a  stage  whisper  to  Charles. 
"Just  got  an  order  from  Antiphat  on  the  strength  uf  two 
tickets  and  Buggins  of  Internal  Soap  has  asked  me  to 
lunch  with  him  to-morrow.  That's  him  over  there  in  the 
long  hair  and  whiskers.  If  you  could  get  this  singer  to 
sample  the  stuff  and  write  a  testimonial,  he  would  be  good 
for  three  pages." 

Charles  muttered  something  about  trying,  and  then  dis- 
covered that  he  must  shake  hands  with  some  one  at  the 
other  side  of  the  hall.  Over  there  he  happened  on  the 
Mamwarings  and  so  saved  his  reputation. 
J'We  don't  go  out  much  now,"  said  Mrs.  Mainwaring, 
"but  we  could  not  resist  when  we  saw  the  singer  came  from 
Chicago.  And  what  do  you  think !  Just  this  very  afternoon 
came  a  cable  from  Viola's  husband  saying  they  had  a  little 
baby  boy.     Wasn't  it  a  coincidence  ?" 


174 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"I'm  so  glad,"  said  Charles  heartily.  "You  must  tell 
her  that  I  want  to  be  godfather." 

"Write  yourself,"  said  Mrs.  Mainwaring.  "I  think  some- 
times Violahas  been  homesick,  and  she  loves  to  get  a  letter 
from  old  friends." 

Just  then  Madeline  reappeared,  so  Charles  returned  to 
his  seat.  Curiously  enough,  her  next  song  was  the  seven- 
teenth century,  Lady  Anne  Bothwell's  Lullaby. 

"Baloo  my  babe,  lie  still  and  sleep, 
It  grieves  me  sair  to  see  thee  weep." 

a  cradle  song  of  sombre  cadences  like  a  wind  full  of  rain 
Charles  trembled  to  think  of  its  effect  on  the  superstitious 
Mrs.  Mainwaring,  but  then  as  if  by  instinct  the  singer 
changed  the  sequence  of  her  programme  and  followed  with 
the  charming  fantasy  of  "Wynken,  Blynken  and  Nod," 
Alicia  Needham's  setting  of  Eugene  Field's  tender  poem 
of  childhood.  In  response  to  an  encore  she  gave  an  old 
French  Noel,  "Dans  cet  fitable,"  picturing  the  little  Christ 
Child  lying  in  the  manger,  the  old  old  story,  which  never 
grows  old. 

Then  after  more  violin  came  Tchaikowsky's  "To  the 
Forest,"  more  exquisitely  sung  even  than  he  had  heard  it 
m  the  concert  agent's  office, 'followed  by  an  English  version 
of  Nur  wer  die  Sehnsucht  kennt"— "Ye  Who  Have 
Yearned  Alone."  Last  of  all  came  two  songs  based  on 
..x?!!"*^*"     ^^'^"   music— "The   Moon   Drops   Low"   and 

White  Dawn  is  Stealing"— exotic  music  which  she  sang 
with  such  intensity  that  the  audience  was  once  more  carried 
away.  She  came  back  therefore  and  closed  with  another 
Ahcia  Needham  setting  of  Eugene  Field,  a  negro  lullaby 

Croodlin'  Doo. 

At  the  end  of  the  concert  he  went  behind  to  congratulate. 
Mrs.  Raymond,  distinctly  stout,  welco.-ned  him  warmly. 
Henry  Raymond  was  handing  round  champagne. 

"Come  along,  Mr.  Fitzmorris.  we're  real  glad  to  see  you  " 
was  his  greeting.    "Isn't  Madeline  great?    1  guess  this  will 


DRUMS  AFAR 


J!! 


175 


make  her  friends  in  CMcago  take  notice.  House  full  and 
hardly  any  paper.  Can  you  beat  it  ?  Shows  you  what  can 
be  done  if  you  pull  the  atrings  right.  See  the  Daily  Mail's 
'Deathblow  to  Patrons^''  If  you  know  any  one  wanting 
an  advance  agent,  tell  them  of  Henry  Raymond." 

"How  did  it  go?"  whispered  Madeline. 

"First  rate,"  answered  Charles.  "I'm  glad  I  gave  you 
our  front  page.  You've  made  a  hit.  Now  don't  forget 
to-morrow  evening  at  Julien's — make  it  seven  o'clock,  as  we 
go  on  to  the  theatre." 

The  notices  in  next  morning's  papers  were  good-tempered 
and  even  flattering.  Madeline  was  radiant  at  the  restau- 
rant. She  was  the  more  conspicuous  because  she  wore  a 
hat  at  dinner,  whereas  the  Englishwomen  present  were  un- 
covered. Mr.  and  Mrs.  Raymond  had  evidently  come  for 
food,  and  Charles  was  glad  that  they  were  satisfied. 

"Our  ideas  of  London  are  all  wrong,"  said  the  father. 
"It's  a  chilly  place,  but  it  has  Chicago  skinned  on  taste. 
Look  at  the  ladies  here.  They're  all  high-steppers,  and — 
Madeline,  my  dear,  next  time  you  come  here,  check  your 
hat.    It  doesn't  belong." 

Miss  Raymond  flushed. 

"No  don't,"  said  Charles,  "we  are  birds  too  much  of  a 
feather,  and  your  hat  is  charming.  There's  not  a  woman 
here  but  wishes  she  could  wear  it  as  well.  In  the  theatre, 
however,  if  I  might  suggest " 

"Of  course,  I  understand,"  said  Madeline,  thanking  him 
with  a  smile. 

Two  taxis  were  needed  to  take  them  to  the  theatre,  and 
Charles  stepped  in  with  the  mother. 

"No  American  would  have  been  so  unselfish,"  said  Mrs. 
Raymond.  "How  I  wish  our  boys  had  your  manners.  But 
going  to  the  hotel,  you  take  my  daughter.  She  wants  to 
thank  you  for  that  picture  in  your  magazine." 

Charles  took  the  hint  and  had  his  tcte-dk-tete  with  Made- 
line en  route  to  the  Carlton. 

"I  was  so  excited  yesterday,  I  forgot  to  thank  you 
properly.    This  means  so  much  to  me — my  friends  would 


176 


DRUMS  AFAR 


' 


have  guyed  me  unmercifully  if  it  had  been  a  frost    Ever 
wear  a  tie-pm?  *-»« 

She  held  out  a  tiny  case. 
lo.'T'?'"  ^^.wJ'^P  ^°"  ^'■°'"  ^'"S  conceited."  she  said 
may  think  of  some  one  else  besides  yourself.    You'll  find  an 

iT  wXV "  ""^  '"'•  ^°°  '"'  ^°  ^"'  ''  '**^" 

to'chu?ch""'*  ^'"  ''  °"  ^°""'^^  to-morrow,  before  we  go 

««^^i'!u^^"'**''*  ^"'^  ''°'**  ^'^  *^«  cloakroom  attendant  he 
opened  the  case  and  read  the  inscription: 

"Madeline   Raymond  to   Charles   Fitzmorris 
Who  did  his  little  bit." 

"By  George,"  he  said  to  himself,  "we're  getting  on  I" 
v/^F^^  ^^  recollected  that  they  knew  the  Kellys.  and 
asked  Mr.  Raymond  if  he  had  met  Viola  or  her  mother. 

"Surrr  !r/?t  ^"-   ^""y-"  ^^'^   Mr.   Raymond. 

Sure  thmg.  and  M.ke  too-he's  my  attorney     Yes  I've 
met  Mrs.  Mik^Mike  brought  her  out  from  England." 
I  ve  just  heard  she's  got  a  baby  " 

time^fly?'^*"^  ^  grandmother!"  said  Madeline.  "Doesn't 
a  present  ?'^'*  '"^"  ^*  ^'^  wedding-What  shall  I  send  as 
"Bring  it  yourself,"  said  Miss  Raymond,  "that's  the  kind 
of  present  she  would  like.'-"Ls  this  an  invitation ?''flaSed 
through  Charles's  mind.-"She'll  be  glad  to  see  some  one 

Xfrt:fnow'"""  ^  '°"^-"-  ^"^  °^  --  ^^^  -^" 
"It  was  Kelly  himself  that  was  my  friend      Viola's 
brother  and  he  were  at  Oxford  same  time  "  I  Jaf 

•'^elM  nTvfrl"""  '"S"""-™"'  *«  ""«».  i"  «>«.•• 
beinVs'tiJe.*"""  ""  """""^  *"  *'  ^^  '"«■«  ""^ 


DRUMS  AFAR 


177 


"Don't  you  think  you  were  taking  a  chance?"  said 
Madeline.  "Marrying  an  English  girl  to  an  American — 
like  mixing  blue  blood  with  red  ?" 

"It's  been  done  the  other  way  round — see  some  of  our 
recent  peeresses." 

"With  what  success?" 

"Practice  for  such  as  Mrs.  Kelly,  Senior,  I'm  afraid." 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Raymond,  "the  Kellys  haven't  far  to 
go  if  they  want  a  divorce." 


if: 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


::/f   If 


NEXT  morning  Charles  called  for  the  Raymonds 
at  jen-thirty.    Madeline  came  down  alone. 
You  see  I'm  in  lots  of  time,"  he  said,  "per- 
haps too  soon."  ^ 

FaZr*  •!  bit-Mother  doesn't  feel  up  to  the  mark  and 

pait  WhTreT/  "\u'  ^T^-So^'-'  ^  I'-  the  whole 
E*  .  w  .  ^^  ^°!1  ^'"^  ''^  «^°'"S-  ^«  went  to  early 
Mass  at  Westmmster  Cathedral  this  morning  " 

a  SthoHc.^"'^"**'    "'  ^^^  "°*  '"^"""^  *^^*  '^*  ™'Sh^  be 

"because  iTT"^' •  5*-  ^,^'-^''^^'!'  Westminster,"  he  said, 
because  of  a  wmdow  I  wanted  to  show  you.  and  the 
music,  but  if  you  would  prefer " 

.J'^u  ^""^'^JV  St.  Margaret's."  she  said.    "That's  where 

t^M^u  ^"''?^T  ^'^*"^^'  '^"'^  '*?    Father  is  a  CathoHc 
but  Mother  and  I  are  Protestant  Episcopalians.    They  are 

before  wi^o  to  P  ^''P  w  *°  "^'^^  P^*"^  ^°^  tb*^  ^^ek 
before  we  go  to  Pans.    We  promised  to  be  there  for  the 

UfaTett°e  "^"'""''"''^  ''  "^  '  P^°^"^-"  ^°  *^«  Vave  of 

ster  bTLVn??^!'"""'.'"?;  '^^  ^'^y  ^^^'^^^  ^o  Westmin- 
ster by  way  of  St.  James's  Palace  and  the  Mall.  Madeline 

sr^ng'^r  '°^ '''' '''  "^'''^  '^  ^  ^°^^'  ^ 

fine^rthis.''"'"^  '""  Washington!"  she  said.    "It's  just  as 

When  the  service  commenced,  they  shared  a  combined 
prayer  and  hymn  book  handed  them  from  a  neighCring 
pew.    It  was  pleasant  to  touch  her  arm  and  ungloved  hand 

It  was  only  now  when  he  was  standing  beside  her  as  she 
sang  that  he  realized  the  wonderful  resonance  of  her  voice 

178 


DRUMS  AFAR 


179 


At  tfie  hymn  "For  thee,  O  dear,  dear  country,"  he  joined 
m  with  his  recently  developed  baritone,  and  found  it  blended 
well. 

r«?y  ^'"^"^  ****  improved,"  she  said,  as  they  sat  down, 
we  ve  both  learned  something,"  he  replied. 

At  lunch  Charles  asked  the  Raymonds  what  they  had  seen 
suggested  other  places  likely  to  interest  them,  and  then 
said, 

"Why  not  Henley?" 

"What  is  Henley?"  they  asked. 

"English  summer  in  a  nutshell— sport,  pretty  girls,  trees, 
river  boatraces,  two  days  of  rain  to  two  of  sunshine-^ " 

'The  sunshine  days  for  mine,"  laughed  Madeline. 

"Lots  of  Americans  there  this  year— Boston  and  Harvard 
have  each  an  Eight." 

"Then  we  must  go  to  cheer— what  else  ?" 

Charles  visualized  for  them  the  charms  of  the  regatta 
told  them  of  the  houseboats,  the  gondolas,  the  punts,  boats 
and  canoes,  the  Pierrots— "often  quite  good  singers"  he 
said,  "actresses  who  mask  their  faces " 

"That's  the  stunt  I"  cried  Madeline.  "Let's  go  as  trouba- 
dours—perhaps we  could  break  even  on  expenses." 

Charies  fought  shy  of  the  suggestion,  but  Miss  Raymond 
would  not  be  denied. 

"You've  got  a  nice  voice,"  she  said,  "we  could  sing  dandy 
duets.    Where  can  we  hire  costumes  ?" 

"Clarkson's,  I  suppose." 

"Take  me  there  to-morrow.  I've  an  idea— we  two  will 
take  a  canoe,  and  go  as  Canadian  pioneers,  time  of 
Kicheheu  and  Louis  Quatorze.  sing  the  old  French  songs 
that  my  great-grandfather  used  to  sing  and  taught  them  to 
an  aunt  of  mine ;  I  could  soon  teach  you.  You  know  our 
family  came  to  Chicago  a  century  or  so  ago,  arrived  in  a 
bateau,  lived  in  a  logcabin  and  birchbark  canoe.  We  came 
from  Montreal." 

"I  understand,"  said  Charies.  "What  you  call  Illinois 
was  once  Canadian,  that  was  in  the  days  of  the  Hundred 
Associates  and  Nouvelle  France  when  Canada  stretched 


i8o 


DRUMS  AFAR 


down  *o  the  Mississippi— and  even  after  it  became  Ameri- 
can, the  fur-trading  was  done  by  the  French." 

"You  know  that— you  an  Englishman!  Hardly  any  one 
knows  it  in  Chicago.  Ah,  but  I  remember  you  were  a  top 
notcher  on  history  at  Strasburg." 

"Louis  XIV  was  in  my  period  at  Oxford— I  have  some 
of  the  old  French  songs  too— they  are  illustrated  in  a 
book  I  have." 

"Isn't  that  lovely!  We'll  try  them  over  after  lunch." 
Charles  slipped  off  to  his  rooms  to  fetch  the  book,  and  the 
more  he  thought  of  the  plan,  the  more  it  grew  upon  him. 
"Tell  you  what,"  he  said  when  he  came  back,  "I  can 
dress  up  like  this  print  of  Champlain,  and  you  can  be  like 
Isabeau  in  'Isabeau  s'y  promene'— with  the  fawn  cap  and 
loose  green  gown— I  wish  we  could  get  birchbark  canoe,  but 
I  suppose  a  canader  will  do— only  that's  too  small  for  a 
piano." 

"I  can  play  a  guitar,"  said  Madeline. 

All  the  afternoon  they  practised  and  found  they  could 
make  a  repertoire  of  ten  or  so  duets. 

"Where  do  we  come  in?"  asked  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Raymond. 

"Somewhere  at  a  safe  distance,"  said  Madeline. 

"I'll  fix  that,"  said  Charles.  "I  can  get  tickets  for  an 
enclosure,  and  you  can  have  your  lunch  and  see  the  races 
in  comfort  from  the  bank.  When  we  have  made  all  the 
money  we  want,  we'll  change  back  to  civilized  clothes  and 
pick  you  up  before  anybody  is  the  wiser." 

Qarkson  had  just  what  they  wanted. 

Madeline  Raymond  looked  bom  to  the  part.  She  might 
have  been  one  of  those  fair  dames  of  France  whose  grace 
and  loveliness  inspired  Villon  to  a  villanelle  and  the  soldier 
to  brave  adventure.  Somehow  Charies  had  thought  of 
American  giris  as  creatures  of  to-day— butterflies— ephem- 
eral—but  here  was  one  whose  blood  went  back  perhaps  to 
the  seigneurs  of  the  Compagnie  des  Indes,  the  pioneers 
who  fought  for  the  new  world  found  by  Cartier  and  Cham- 
plain  and  Alaisonneuve. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i8i 


.'  J 


"Then  you  must  have  old  families  even  in  Chicago,"  he 
said  as  he  watched  her  sewing  a  hem. 

"Sure,"  she  said,  "there  are  three  degrees  of  aristocracy 
with  us,  first  the  pioneers,  then  those  not  pioneers  who 
came  before  the  Fire,  and  then  those  who  came  between 
the  Fire  and  the  World's  Fair— after  that  the  Deluge.  I 
must  send  you  seme  books  about  the  early  days — they  are 
issued  every  Christmas  by  one  of  Father's  rivals.  I  wish 
he  would  do  something  the  same  himself.  What  sort  of 
a  great-grandfather  did  you  have  ?" 

"Honestly,"  said  Charles,  "I  don't  know.  I  suppose  Fitz- 
morris  is  a  corruption  of  Fitzmaurice,  and  that  sounds 
Norman — so  perhaps  nine  hundred  years  ago  we  were  first 
cousins." 

"Quit  it!"  she  said.    "You  make  me  giddy." 

Between  Sunday  and  the  first  day  of  Henley,  which 
was  Wednesday,  they  spent  half  their  time  together  over  the 
piano,  while  the  elder  Raymonds  went  sightseeing.  Music 
is  a  wonderful  harmonizer. 

On  Wednesday  a  blue  sky  and  the  prospect  of  good 
racing  filled  the  trains  from  Paddington.  The  Raymonds, 
however,  chose  to  motor.  Owing  to  the  number  of  cars 
on  the  same  errand,  they  saw  more  dust  than  greenery, 
but  this  method  of  travel  gave  them  liberty  to  leave  when 
they  wished  to. 

By  the  time  Charles  had  deposited  the  elder  Raymonds 
at  the  enclosure  and  rejoined  Madeline  at  the  hotel  where 
she  had  gone  to  change,  the  river  was  gay  with  watercraft 
and  summery  dresses.  It  was  a  blazing  day  and  Madeline's 
old-fashioned  cap  gave  little  shade.  A  pedlar  of  J3p  para- 
sols came  to  the  rescue,  and  though  this  might  seem  in- 
congruous with  her  court-lady  costume,  Henley  was  not 
hypercritical. 

"If  I  had  only  known  your  climate,"  she  said,  "I  should 
have  dressed  bergdre." 

The  American  flag  flaunted  its  stars  and  stripes  from 
boat  and  buttonhole,  German  voices  jarred  with  honey 'd 


MICROCOPY    RfSOlUTION   TBT  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


■  M 

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l82 


DRUMS  AFAR 


French  and  even  occasional  Italian— so  much  so  that  Made- 
line asked  maliciously,  where  the  English  were. 

"You'll  see  them  at  the  winning-post,"  bragged  Charles, 
at  which, 

"Touch  wood,"  she  said. 

"Why?" 

"I'm  superstitious— things  mayn't  turn  out  as  you  wish." 

"Well,  even  if  we  do  lose,  you'll  find  us  sportsmen.  But 
I'll  back  Leander  against  the  world." 

As  they  paddled  slowly  towards  Fawley,  Madeline 
hummed  over  the  tune  of  "Dans  les  Prisons  de  Nantes," 
to  the  rhythm  of  his  stroke. 

"That's  the  way  it  should  be  sung,"  she  said.  "Can't  you 
picture  the  old  voyageurs  forging  up  some  river  deep  in 
the  bush,  filling  the  forest  with  their  songs  of  their  be- 
loved France,  rough  fellows  but  truehearted,  and  so  full  of 
music." 

"Dans  les  prisons  de  Nantes, 
Dans  les  prisons  de  Nantes 
Lui  ya-t-un  prisonnier,  faluron  dondaine, 
Lui  ya-t-un  prisonnier,  faluron  donde." 

"Begin,"  he  said. 

As  she  softly  tuned  her  guitar,  the  curious  already  began 
to  follow  attracted  by  the  costumes. 

He  let  her  sing  the  first  verse  alone,  then  at  the  second 
joined  in. 

"Que  personn'  ne  va  voire 
Que  personn'  ne  va  voire 
Que  la  fille  du  geolier,  faluron  dondaine, 
Que  la  fille  du  geolier,  faluron  donde." 

By  the  time  they  had  reached  the  last  verse,  they  had  a 
crowd  around  them,  and  Charles  thought  it  wise  to  paddle 
slowly  to  the  nearest  house-boat.  His  voice  had  trembled 
at  first  with  nervousness  but  gradually  he  had  taken  courage, 
and  the  two  voices  merged  in  rich  harmony. 


■,li 


i  I 


DRUMS  AFAR 


183 


"Bravo,  bravo !"  came  from  the  audience,  and  the  people 
behind  the  blaze  of  flowers  on  the  houseboat  clapped  their 
hands. 

"Shall  we  collect  now?"  whispered  Madeline. 

"No,  give  them  another.    I  haven't  got  the  bag  ready." 

She  struck  the  chords  of  some  music  he  did  not  know, 
while  he  set  up  the  fishing  rod  at  the  end  of  which  was 
the  velvet  pouch  which  she  had  made  for  the  purpose. 
Then  when  he  gave  the  signal,  burst  with  a  fine  swing  into, 

Mariann'  s'en  va-t-au  moulin, 

Mariann'  s'en  va-t-au  moulin, 

C'est  pour  y  fair'  moudre  son  grain, 

C'est  pour  y  fair'  moudre  son  grain ; 

A  cheval  sur  son  ane,  Ma  p'tit,  Mamzell'  Marianne, 

A  cheval  sur  son  ane  Catin, 

S'en  allant  au  moulin. 

Those  who  understood  the  French  smiled  at  the  quaint- 
ness  of  the  words,  while  the  music  was  of  that  simple 
charm  which  hits  the  heart.  At  the  end  of  the  song  the 
fishing  rod  went  round  and  up  to  the  listeners  on  the  house- 
boat. 

"A  three-pounder,  or  I'm  jiggered,"  said  Charles,  watch- 
ing the  point  bend.    "This  is  a  good  pool." 

Snatches  of  conversation  reached  their  ears. 

"Are  they  real  French  ? " 

"No,  just  actors,  I  think " 

"I  heard  these  songs  once  when  I  was  fishing  in  Quebec ; 
the  guides  sang  them " 

"Did  you  go  to  that  'No  Patronage'  concert  last  week— 
rather  sporting  of  the  girl,  whoever  she  was " 

"Wunderschon " 

"What  gets  my  goat  is  that " 

"Look  at  that  red-headed  girl ;  do  you  think  she  dyes " 

"I  don't  care  who  wins  the  Grand,  so  long  as  it's  not 
those  Germans " 

There  were  quite  a  number  of  straw  hats  with  House 


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DRUMS  AFAR 


colours,  and  Charles  trembled  lest  he  should  be  recognized, 
but  the  disguise  was  good,  and  by  the  time  they  had  sung 
before  one  or  two  other  house-boats  he  felt  an  old  hand 
at  the  game.  Only  when  the  heats  for  the  Ladies'  Plate 
were  rowed  did  he  almost  betray  himself,  for  as  the  Christ 
Church  boat  swept  past  ahead  of  Univ.  his  sudden  yell  of 
Well  rowed,  House!"  so  startled  as  to  nearly  upset  the 
occupants  of  a  neighbouring  canoe.  /     p    t  i  c 

Mo!?r'  ^r  !^T^'  ^^^^^  ^*  *^«  fi"^s^'"  he  shouted  to 
Madelme,    and  Univ  was  head  of  the  River!    Well  rowed 
House !  ' 

"Keep  cool.  House,"  remonstrated  the  neighbour  who 
wore  Leander  colours,  and  Charles,  recollecting  his  mas- 
querade, blushed  and  paddled  away 

••What  do  'House'  and  'Univ'  mean?"  asked  Madeline. 
Two  colleges  at  Oxford ;  sorry  for  getting  so  excited,  but 
I  was  at  the  House  myself." 

"Excited?"  she  smiled.  "You  wait  till  you  see  Yale  and 
Harvard  Why  didn't  you  pass  the  word?  I  would  have 
lent  a  yell." 

Between  the  races  they  proceeded  leisurely  till  they  had 
done  most  of  the  line,  and  then  returned  to  the  finishing 

"Shall  we  reverse?"  asked  Madeline 
"No,  don't  let's  be  hogs.  Let  the  others  have  a  chance, 
we  can  come  again  to-morrow— I  want  to  see  the  House 
row  again,  and  there  will  be  a  big  crowd  to  see  the  first 
heats  for  the  Grand.  Boston  and  Harvard  and  Winnipeg 
and  the  Germans  all  rowing.  And  Leander— wait  till  vou 
see  Leander!"  ^ 

They  went  back  to  the  hotel  to  change,  counted  up  their 
booty,  which  amounted  to  over  twenty  pounds,  and  went 
to  join  the  elder  Raymonds. 

"Father,  we  had  a  peach  of  a  time,"  said  Madeline,  "and 
just  think,  a  hundred  dollars!" 

"Good  business."  said  Mr.  Raymond.  "Madeline,  my 
dear,  we'll  have  to  take  you  into  the  firm." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


185 


"You  wouldn't  pay  the  salary,"  laughed  Madeline.  "I've 
got  ambitions." 

"What  do  you  say,  Mr.  Fitzmorris.    What's  she  worth?" 

"Weight  in  gold,"  he  answered,  smiling. 

"Now  if  I  were  mother,"  she  said,  putting  her  arm 
round  the  latter,  "that  might  be  worth  something,  but  I'm 
a  regular- fairy — ^got  any  scales  handy?" 

"We'll  find  them  at  any  station,"  said  Charles.  "I'd  put 
you  down  as  nine  stone  two." 

"Say  it  in  pounds.  This  is  worse  than  Centigrade  and 
Fahrenheit." 

"Counting  twenty  to  the  stone,"  he  said,  pencilling  it 
out,  "that  would  make  you  a  hundred  and  eighty-two 
pounds." 

"Oh,  you  wretch!" 

"But  as  there  are  only  fourteen  pounds  to  the  stone, 
the  correct  weight  is  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight." 

"Gkx)d  gracious,  how  you  frightened  me!— anyway,  you 
are  ten  pounds  too  high — whatever  made  you  play  such  a 
joke?" 

"Wanted  to  sec  if  you  really  cared " 

'Care!— when  I  spend  half  my  time  on  diets!  It's  evi- 
dent you  don't  know  much  about  American  women.  Why, 
we  think  more  of  our  personal  appearance  than  a  saint  does 
of  his  immortal  soul — it's  the  whole  caboodle  with  us.  My, 
I'm  so  scared  of  putting  on  flesh,  I  never  eat  potatoes,  al- 
though I  just  love  hashed  brown." 

"That  porterhouse  steak  waiting  for  me  at  the  hotel  kind 
of  smells  good,"  said  her  father,  pulling  out  his  watch. 
"Let's  get  a  move  on." 

And  so,  scorr.ing  the  speed  limit,  they  hurried  back  to 
London. 


I'  A 


CHAPTER  XIX 

CHARLES  had  tickets  for  the  Alhambra  that  eve- 
ning, and  dunng  an  acrobatic  turn  he  came  back 
to  the  point. 

r  t.  V,  .-       "A^^  American  women  more  vain  than  Eng- 
hsh?"  he  asked.  ^ 

"They  are  more  particular,"  she  corrected.  "The  effect 
I  suppose,  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  You  see' 
that  made  our  great-great-grandmothers  look  to  Paris  in- 
stead of  London  for  our  modes,  and  we  keep  up  the  habit. 
I'ourth  of  July  is  just  an  excuse  for  me—I'm  going  to  col- 
lect new  frocks." 

"Are  our  women  then  so  badly  dressed  ?" 

"Some  of  them  do  seem  to  have  crossed  the  Channel"— 
she  admitted.  "Perhaps  they  are  not  quite  so  crude  as  the 
Oermans— their  figures  are  fair,  and  their  complexions  just 
great-tut,  my  goodness,  I  don't  wonder  that  your  younjj 
^lu  ^'■!i  «™igrating.  The  giris  could  hold  them  at  home 
if  they  dolled  up  more." 

"You  forget  that  economic  circumstance " 

"Don't  talk  Encyclopaedia  Britannica  to  me.    Give  me  a 
nice  gown,  and  I'll  hold  Moses  on  a  little  piece  of  string 
Your  women  are  crazy  about  the  vote.     What  most  of 
them  need  is  a  full-length  mirror." 
"Perhaps  we  have  more  heart." 

"You  can't  tell  till  you  try,"  she  said,  looking  him  full 
m  the  face. 

A  shout  of  laughter  at  some  antic  on  the  stage  distracted 
them,  but  all  the  rest  of  the  evening  Charles  wondered  if 
this  was  a  challenge. 

Was  she  merely  playing  with  him,  or  had  she  something 
TJ  u^"  \^'^^^Sfor  him?  She  was  certainly  less  stand- 
offish than  she  had  been  at  Strasburg,  yet  even  there  she  had 

186 


DRUMS  AFAR 


19? 


led  him  on— it  is  true,  only  to  let  him  down.  Still  she 
seemed  more  human  now  thai,  she  had  been  in  the  old  days 
— ^perhaps  it  was  because  she  had  lost  her  prejudices  against 
England,  and  as  an  Englishman  he  gained  by  the  change  of 
spirit.  Gratitude  of  course  for  the  help  he  had  given  to 
her  concert  might  account  for  something.  At  Strasburg  he 
had  merely  passed  the  time  with  cakes  and  pastries.  Here 
he  had  fed  her  appetite  for  praise,  and  though  she  was  not 
unduly  conceited  she  was  woman  enough  to  welcome  ap- 
preciation. 

By  George,  she  was  a  lovely  girl!  Every  opera  glass 
that  swept  the  stalls  rested  on  her  for  a  while  and  came 
back  to  her  again.  She  certainly  looked  stunning — there 
was  not  a  handsomer  face  in  the  house.  The  mother  might 
be  thought  plebeian,  but  Madeline,  the  daughter,  was  of  a 
finer  generation.  She  was  an  artist — was  spirituelle — ^with 
more  than  a  mere  mouth  for  the  good  things  of  this  world. 
Her  accent,  too,  was  not  so  nasal  as  her  mother's — due  no 
doubt  to  her  training  as  a  singer.  Certainly  she  used  more 
slang,  but  Charles  was  used  to  the  vernacular  which  Kelly 
had  already  made  familiar. 

How  beautiful  her  voice  was!  Perhaps  she  was  right 
in  thinking  she  would  never  be  a  great  singer.  The  volume 
was  not  there,  but  could  there  ever  be  more  perfect  quality, 
more  delicate  art,  more  lovely  timbre,  more  passionate  sin- 
cerity? She  carried  an  echo  of  her  singing  voice  in  the 
voice  with  which  she  spoke — he  seemed  to  hear  the  croon 
in  her  whisper. 

How  exquisitely  poised  her  head  was,  and  her  neck  how 
graceful!  The  coils  of  her  dark  hair  were  piled  up  in  a 
curve  which  flowed  down  over  her  neck  and  shoulders  to 
her  deep  rounded  warm-skinned  bosom.  In  that  were  set 
red  roses  he  had  given  her. 

Her  eyes  were  surely  not  mere  will-o'-the-wisps.  She 
laughed  at  him  in  them  perhaps  a  little,  but  it  was  a  friendly 
laugh  that  lingered  and  did  not  run  away;  it  seemed  to 
say  "Be  pals." 

The  hands,  he  saw,  were  manicured.    She  used  them 


I:' 


i88 


DRUMS  AFAR 


quite  a  little  as  she  talked-perhaps  the  heritage  of  French 
descent  Once  or  twice  her  left  hand  touched  his  right 
during  the  evening,  and  at  the  touch  the  young  blood  surged 
through  him  till  he  knew  that  now,  if  only  she  wished,  she 
nad  him  at  her  mercy. 

Where  were  the  traces  of  the  Indian  blood  that  she  hinted 
at  when  she  said  "Coureur  de  bois."  As  yet  unbetrayed. 
except  perhaps  m  the  intensity  with  which  she  sang  those 
Canadian  songs  at  her  concert.  The  hair  was  not  the 
straight  black  of  the  Iroquois  or  Huron.  Was  there  not 
however  a  darker  tone  to  the  skin  than  would  be  found  in 
Northern  Europe? 

Next  day  it  was  fine  again,  and  Charles  called  in  high 
hopes  at  the  hotel.  He  was  dismayed  to  find  the  elder  Ray- 
monds plastered  with  American  flags.  What  made  it  worse 
was  that  they  chose  to  go  by  train,  from  memory  of  dusty 
roads  the  day  before.  Fortunately  the  four  of  them  filled 
a  compartment,  and  Charies  did  not  meet  any  one  he  knew 
to  smile  at  his  embarrassment. 

Still,  one  couldn't  blame  them  for  being  patriotic.  How- 
ever he  was  glad  that  Madeline  was  less  flamboyant. 

There  must  have  been  many  who  were  on  the  river  the 
day  before,  for  as  Charies  and  Madeline  paddled  down  thev 
heard  '      ^ 

"There's  that  giri  with  the  black  hair." 
"Let's  hear  them  sing  again,"  and 

irZlt  T^^\  ^°"^«'"  this  last  being  a  stage  whisper 
from  the  Leander  man  they  had  so  nearly  upset 

The  river  was  even  more  crowded  than  the  day  before, 
and  the  crowd  more  excited.  Along  the  houseboats  how- 
ever there  was  room  to  move,  for  most  of  the  craft  kept 
close  to  the  boom.  ^ 

"It's  the  Grand  Challenge  that  has  drawn  them,"  said 
Charles,  who  was  keyed  up  himself.  "Uander  meets  Har- 
vard m  the  third  heat." 

They  were  in  the  middle  of  singing  when  suddenly  their 
abn7the  l?„c      *'^*^'  ^^  "^'"°'P««  ^^  leading  I"  passed 


DRUMS  AFAR 


189 


A  roar  of  cheers  went  up  as  the  Canadian  crew  finished 
ahead,  and  then  Charles  realized  that  he  was  nervous  with 
excitement.    Madeline  was  quick  to  see  his  anxiety. 

"Never  mind  the  singing,"  she  said  good-naturedly.  "Let's 
keep  close  to  the  boom.  I  want  to  see  the  Americans  my- 
self.   When  do  they  come  on?" 

"Boston  next — against  London.  They  should  easily  win 
in  spite  of  their  Panama  hats — poor  old  London !  But  wait 
till  you  see  Leander!" 

Madeline  said  nothing  but  shook  her  finger  at  him  laugh- 
ingly, and  touched  wood  on  the  side  of  the  canoe. 

As  Charles  had  prophesied,  Boston  with  their  red-topped 
oars  walked  away  from  London,  and  the  air  was  thick 
with  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

"Now  Leander!" 

He  was  edging  up  closer  to  the  boom  when  a  strange 
succession  of  noises  rose  from  a  group  of  boats  beside  them. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  exclaimed.  "A  lunatic  asylum  has 
got  loose." 

Madeline  laughed  gaily. 

"It's  just  the  Harvard  yell,"  she  said. 

They  could  not  see  the  beginning  of  the  race,  as  the 
river  curved,  and  the  starting-post  was  round  the  comer. 
Charles  smoked  furious,  impatient  cigarettes. 

"Just  watch  their  rhythm  as  they  pass,"  he  said  to  Made- 
line. "They  have  the  perfection  of  style.  They  are  all 
old  Blues " 

"Blues?" 

"Yes — rowed  either  for  Oxford  or  Cambridge — here  .hey 
come !" 

The  roar  of  cheers  approached.  It  was  difficult  to  see 
who  was  ahead  at  the  comer  on  account  of  the  crowd,  but 
"Leander's  leading !"  shouted  some  one  standing  in  a  punt. 

"Of  course,"  shouted  Charles. 

"Here  they  are— Harvard's  catching  up  I  Ra— Ra— Ra !" 
and  the  yell  recommenced. 

Madeline  heard  Charles  exclaim,  his  face  all  pale,  as  the 
boats  flashed  past.    Yes,  Harvard  was  drawing  ahead. 


I90 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Another  wild  yell,  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  waving  furi- 
ously.  * 

"Well,  on  my  soul!    Leander  beaten!— who  could  have 

thought  it  possible !" 
One  could  pick  out  the  long-drawn  English  fices 
'Tm  so  sorry,"  said  Madeline.    "Shall  we  go  back  to 

the  hotel  ?" 

"Not  yet.  Forgive  me  for  my  rudeness,  those  American 
fellows  deserved  to  win— they  rowed  magnificently— but 
do  you  mmd  our  staying  here  a  bit?  There's  another  heat 
still,  the  Germans  against  Jesus— Jesus  College,  I  mean  " 
he  added,  seeing  her  puzzled  look— "let's  hope  they  keep 
our  end  up— it  would  be  deadly  if  they  too  got  licked." 

If  cheering  could  have  done  it,  Jesus  would  have  won 
for  every  Englishman  on  the  course  shouted  himself  hoarse 
for  the  Cambridge  men.  But  fate  was  inexorable,  and 
though  It  was  the  closest  race  of  all  the  German  crew  drew 
ahead  at  the  last,  and  won  by  three  quarters  of  a  length. 

Charles  backed  in  silence  out  of  the  crowd  and  paddled 
towards  the  boat-house.  Madeline  was  too  sympathetic  not 
to  understand. 

"I  don't  want  to  sing  any  more,"  she  said,  "this  shouting 
has  given  me  a  headache.    Let's  go  back  and  change  " 

"You're  a  brick,"  said  Charles. 

They  walked  from  the  landing-stage  to  the  hotel. 

"It  wouldn't  have  been  so  rotten  if  we  had  not  lost  all 
four  heats,"  he  groaned.  "Just  think  of  it— four  foreign 
crews  in  the  Semi-Finals." 

"Surely  not!"  cried  Madeline.  "You  don't  count  the  Ca- 
nadians as  foreigners,  do  you?" 

"Theoretically  not ;  but— well,  they're  not  English." 

"How  insular  you  are,"  she  said.  "You  don't  deserve  to 
belong  to  an  Empire.  I  don't  wonder  that  Canadians  get 
mad— why,  they  have  saved  the  da;  for  you,  if  you  only 
look  at  it  the  right  way." 

"Do  they  get  mad?" 

*'Do  they?    You  know  you  sometimes  make  even  me 


DRUMS  AFAR 


U\ 


191 


mad.  I  thought  ycu  said  that  the  English  were  good  sports- 
men." 

"That  was  before  I  knew  we  were  going  to  get  licked," 
he  said  grimly.  "And  this  is  such  an  absolute  knock-out.  I 
don't  know  what  is  coming  over  England.  She's  taking 
such  a  backseat  in  everything.  Look  at  the  Olympian 
Games,  and  golf,  and  tennis — and  then  in  politics,  look  at 
this  Irish  mess — ^by  George,  I  think  I'll  emigrate." 

"Why  not?"  she  said  quickly. 

"Why  not,"  he  echoed  gloomily. 

They  were  at  the  hotel  by  this  time,  and  par  -"d  to 
change  their  costumes. 

"Father  will  be  crazy,"  said  Madeline  when  they  met 
again.    "We  must  hurry  back  and  cool  him  down." 

As  they  returned,  there  was  one  rift  in  the  clouds,  for 
Christ  Church  raced  in  ahead  of  a  Cambridge  crew  just 
as  they  approached  the  winning  post.  Charles  wore  his 
House  colours  and  cheered  like  a  maniac. 

"Still,"  he  said  when  he  had  quieted  down,  "I  don't  care 
if  it  rains  all  the  rest  of  the  week.  This  is  the  last  Henley 
for  me.  I  believe  it's  all  due  to  our  allowing  motorboats 
upon  the  course." 

As  they  drove  from  Paddington  to  the  Carlton,  Charles, 
who  had  manoeuvred  into  the  taxi  with  Madeline,  realized 
that  this  might  be  the  last  time  they  would  be  alone,  and 
suddenly  plucked  up  courage  to  test  her — was  she  just  hav- 
ing a  good  time,  or  was  there  something  more?  She  had 
been  decent  about  the  races.  She  had  sympathized  with 
him  when  her  own  people  had  won—  yes,  a  decent  thing  to 
do. 

"Am  I  going  to  see  you  again?"  he  asked. 

"Thcit  depends  on  you,"  she  answered,  looking  at  him 
out  of  her  dark  eyes  from  her  comer  of  the  taxi  with  a 
queer  little  smile. 

"What !"  he  ejaculated.  Then  blushed  as  he  realized  how 
rude  this  sounded.  "Excuse  me,  I  didn't  realize — did  your 
mother  suggest " 

"Why  should  mother  butt  in?"  she  replied.    "We  sail 


192 


DRUMS  AFAR 


from  Cherbourg  on  the  St.  Louis  in  ten  days'  time.  You'll 
find  the  States  pretty  hot  in  summer,  but  the  Atlantic's  cool. 
She's  an  old  boat,  but  St.  Louis  is  our  patron  saint,  and 
the  captain's  an  old  friend  of  the  family.  Shall  I  send 
you  a  printed  invitation,  or  can  you  take  a  hint?" 


CHAPTER  XX 

LYING  in  bed  that  night,  Charles  realized  that  he 
was  very  nearly  in  love,  and  that  so  far  as  he  could 
judge,  Madeline  liked  him.    That  might  however 
be  for  her  just  a  flirtation,  and  she  might  have  a 
dozen  other  beaux  in  the  United  States,  in  addition  to  those 
she  could  have  picked  up  while  she  was  studying  music  m 
Rome  and  Milan.   The  Raymonds  seemed  to  be  well  off,  and 
he  himself  was  certainly  no  catch,  so  that  if  it  came  to  facmg 
the  old  man  with  a  request  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter 
he  might  have  to  sing  small.     There  was  this  about  it, 
however,  namely  that  Madeline  was  independent— she  had 
said  she  wouldn't  have  her  mother  "butt  in."    But  she  would 
be  an  expensive  girl  to  marry,  if  what  she  said  about  dress 
was  true,  and  she  certainly  seemed  to  wear  a  different  gown 
every  time  he  had  met  her.   It  would  be  just  as  well  to  stand 
in  with  the  father,  if  she  really  meant  to  have  him.    Made- 
line was  undoubtedly  "come-hithering,"  so  "nothing  venture, 
nothing  have"  he  concluded. 

Before  taking  his  passage,  he  must  have  a  talk  with  his 
father,  just  to  see  how  the  wind  blew. 

"Be  at  home  to-night,  father?"  he  telephoned  next  morn- 
ing after  he  had  seen  the  Raymonds  off  from  Charing 

Cross.  . 

"Yes,  glad  to  see  you.    Wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  you 

myself." 

The  rest  of  the  family  had  gone  out  for  the  evening, 
somewhat  to  he  relief  of  Charies,  as  he  wished  to  see  his 
father  alone.  When  they  had  reached  the  coffee  and  cigars, 
Mr.  Fitzmorris  raised  the  question, 

"Want  more  money?" 

"No,  father,  not  just  at  present." 

"Glad  to  hear  it.    Market's  absolutely  putrid.    Look  at 

193 


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Kaffirs  and  Rubbers  and  American  Rails,  not  to  mention 
Consols.  Something's  in  the  wind — well,  what  is  it?  I 
don't  suppose  you  came  here  to  talk  about  the  weather." 

"No,  I  came  to  say  I  thought  of  going  to  America." 

"What's  the  trouble?    Been  playing  the  silly  goat?" 

"No,  just  for  a  trip.  You  remember  Kelly,  my  Oxford 
friend ;  I  thought  I  might  visit  him  and  at  the  same  time  see 
something  of  their  newspapers  and  methods — ^perhaps  do 
some  business  for  Pen  and  Pencil." 

"From  what  I  hear,  it  needs  it.  Can  you  pay  your  pass- 
age?" 

"Yes,  hut  I  might  be  the  better  of  a  letter  of  credit,  in 
case  of  accidents." 

"Two  hundred?" 

"Thanks  awfully." 

"That's  all  right,  my  boy.  Don't  cash  it  if  you  can  help — 
one  never  can  tell  what's  going  to  happen  here.  I  don't 
want  to  frighten  your  mother,  but  we've  got  to  go  slow  for 
a  bit.  Tell  you  what,  my  boy,  if  you  see  a  chance  of  get- 
ting into  business  on  the  other  side,  take  it — this  country's 
played  out." 

Charles  had  never  known  his  father  so  pessimistic  before. 
He  had  his  ups  and  downs,  but  this  was  down  with  a  ven- 
geance. 

"I'll  remember,"  he  said,  "but  I'm  afraid  there's  not 
much  chance  of  any  American  wanting  an  Englishman. 
They  think  we  are  behind  the  times." 

"They're  just  about  right.  But  they  themselves  go  too 
fast  sometimes,  and  the  wise  ones  know  it.  However,  what 
I  want  to  tell  you  is,  that  I  wouldn't  ask  you  to  come  into 
the  firm  as  things  are  at  present.  I  am  an  old  stager,  and 
can  look  ahead  to  the  time  when  the  storm  has  passed, 
but  it  takes  an  old  man's  nerve  to  live  on  the  edge  of  a 
volcano.  Besides,  we've  too  many  eggs  in  one  basket  as  it 
is.  Take  this  trip  to  the  States,  and  if  you  see  good  pros- 
pects there  hold  on  tc  them  and  think  you  are  lucky." 

"What  about  Pen  and  Pencilf" 

"Hopeless  t    There's  no  market  in  the  shares,  not  even 


DRUMS  AFAR 


195 


IN 


in  the  bucket-shops.  I  gave  you  the  money  because  you 
asked  for  it  and  it  kept  you  out  of  mischief,  but  that's 
written  off  the  books.  Too  many  weekly  illustrateds  on 
the  bookstalls.  Give  it  a  year  to  go  under.  No,  my  boy, 
it's  time  to  strike  out  a  new  line.  If  I  can  help  you  I'll 
do  it,  but  if  you  can  manage  by  yourself  you'll  help  your 

old  Dad."  ,      . . 

"Oxford's  a  poor  place  to  get  a  business  education,  said 
Charies,  "but  I'm  not  so  green  as  I  was  %.  iien  I  went  down. 
One  gets  a  lot  of  experience  in  Fleet  Street." 

"I  suppose  one  does.  Thanks,  by  the  way,  for  those  tick- 
ets. We  enjoyed  the  concert,  all  of  us.  So  did  you  too 
judging  by  the  way  you  clapped  the  singer.  Why  didn't 
you  come  and  speak  to  us?  I  tried  to  get  hold  of  you  at 
the  end,  but  you  went  out  by  a  private  door.  By  the  way, 
that  singer  came  from  Chicago  as  well  as  your  friend  Kelly. 
Does  that  'No  Patronage'  mean  'No  Chaperons'?" 

He  laughed  heartily  as  Charles  coloured. 

"You  can't  fool  the  old  man— he's  been  there  before, 
was  an  amateur,  of  course,  but  carried  it  off  well, 
put  up  the  money?" 

"Her  father." 

"Good  for  him!  I  should  like  to  meet  the  old  sport. 
Are  they  still  in  London?  If  so,  why  not  r>.sk  them  out 
to  dinner  here?" 

"Too  late,  I  am  afraid.  They  are  in  Paris  now,  and  I 
don't  expect  to  sec  them  again  till  the  steamer." 

"Give  them  my  compliments  when  you  do.  Now  as  to 
yourself— I'll  be  frank  and  tell  you  how  you  stand.  I  have 
laid  aside  five  hundred  poimds  a  year  for  you  the  next  two 
years,  and  nobody  but  you  shall  touch  it.  But  after  all,  it's 
all  a  toss  up  whether  there's  anything  left  in  the  bank. 
Things  may  improve,  but " 

"All  right,  father,  I  understand.  If  I  sec  a  chance  on 
the  other  side,  I'll  stay  there,  for  a  while  at  any  rate. 
You've  been  awfully  good  to  mc,  and  I  haven't  shown  my 
appreciation  as  I  ought.    If  you  want  me  to  draw  less " 


She 
Who 


I  ,  ( 


i 


nl 


196 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"No,  no.  This  is  some  old  family  money  that  would  come 
to  you  anyway." 

"Talking  of  family,  by  the  way,"  said  Charles,  "some  one 
asked  me  the  other  day  about  great-grandfathers — who 
was  the  first  Fitzmorris  that  we  know  about?  Had  we 
anybody  in  the  Ark  ?" 

"Not  q  'ite  so  far  back  as  that — some  pirate  or  sheep- 
stealer,  I  believe.  Your  mother  paid  a  fellow  once  to  work 
out  a  pedigree  at  the  time  we  started  a  crest.  Most  of  it 
bunkum,  but  there  did  seem  to  be  one  genuine  ancestor — 
Hugh  Fitzmorris,  a  soldier  of  fortune,  who  fought  under 
Gustavus  Adolphus.  Candidly,  I've  no  use  just  now  for 
Norman  ancestors.  Wish  mine  were  German  Jews;  I'd 
have  a  chance  then  of  knowing  why  Berlin  has  been  un- 
loading so  heavily — ^these  sheenies  are  damned  close  now- 
adays." 

Soldier  of  Fortune  I  Charles  smiled  at  the  thought. 
That  was  just  about  his  case  now — ^his  sword  was  a  thou- 
sand pounds,  and  the  field  of  battle  Chicago.  A  thousand 
pounds?  There  were  still  his  shares  in  Pen  and  Pencil. 
These  his  father  said  were  worthless,  and  he  ought  to  know, 
but  Roberts,  the  rival  director,  might  be  bluffed  into  buying 
some.  It  was  worth  trying,  anyway.  There  was  to  be  a 
Board  meeting  next  Friday.    Something  might  be  done. 

In  the  meanwhile  he  went  to  Cook's  and  secured  a  cabin 
on  the  St.  Louis.  He  felt  it  also  his  duty  to  say  good-bye 
to  his  mother  and  sisters,  as  it  might  be  years  before  he 
returned,  but  did  not  hint  to  them  that  this  was  anything 
but  a  holiday  trip. 

"If  you  pick  up  an  heiress,"  said  his  sister  Gara,  "get 
one  with  as  little  twang  as  possible.  They  say  the  Southern- 
ers speak  with  the  least  accent." 

Roberts  was  the  only  other  director  to  attend  the  Board 
Meeting,  so  that  Charles  had  the  opportunity  he  wanted. 

"Here  is  the  situation,"  he  said.  "You  and  I  are  the 
only  two  members  of  the  Board  who  count,  and  we  disagree 
on  policy.  Your  ideas  are  no  doubt  sound,  but  I  prefer 
mine,  and  between  us  we  are  producing  a  paper  which  is 


DRUMS  AFAR 


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: 


neither  flesh,  fowl,  nor  good  red  herring.  Can't  we  come 
to  some  arrangement  by  which  either  I  buy  out  your  shares 
or  you  buy  mine  ?" 

The  flicker  of  excitement  in  Roberts'  eyes  lold  Charles 
that  he  had  a  rise. 

"You  hold  too  much,"  said  the  latter.  "I  wouldn't  raise 
the  money  to  buy  you  out,  and  I  don't  care  to  sell." 

"This  means  more  to  you,  perhaps,  than  to  me,"  said 
Charles.  "I  look  at  it  more  as  a  hobby  than  a  means  of 
livelihood.  Perhaps  that  is  why  I  do  things  you  think  un- 
business-like,  and  spoil  the  chances  of  the  paper's  earning 
dividends.  Money  doesn't  mean  much  to  me,  so  if  it  would 
help  I  could  let  you  in  on  easy  terms.  Five  hundred  ten 
pound  shares  would  give  you  control,  and  leave  me  as 
much  interest  in  the  paper  as  I  want,  for  I  really  am  fond 
of  the  old  rag  and  don't  want  to  sell  outright.  Now,  you 
can  have  these  for  ten  per  cent  cash  and  the  rest  at  your 
convenience— payable,  say,  out  of  future  dividends." 

"That's  five  hundred  pounds  down?" 

"Yes." 

"Give  me  till  to-morrow." 

Next  day  Roberts  telephoned. 

"Sorry,  I  can't  raise  more  than  four  hundred  pounds." 

Charles  hesitated. 

Should  he  accept  ? 

"It's  a  bluflf,"  he  decided,  and  then  answered.  "Sorry 
myself — well,  we  must  call  it  off.  I'm  going  to  America 
next  week,  and  will  see  what  you  think  of  it  when  I  come 
back." 

"How  long  do  you  expect  to  be  away  ?" 

"Couple  of  months.  Hope  to  get  some  new  ideas  for 
the  paper." 

Sure  enough,  next  morning  he  received  a  letter  from 
Roberts  agreeing  to  his  terms. 

"That's  one  on  Father,"  chuckled  Charles,  and  telephoned 
the  news  of  his  deal. 

"Go  ahead,  my  boy,"  came  the  answer.  "You  may  find 
room  in  Chicago  yet." 


II 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  special  boat-train  for  Southampton  was  due 
to  leave  at  nine-thirty,  but  Charles  was  there  at 
nine  as  he  wished  to  escape  the  possibility  of  meet- 
ing the  elder  Raymonds  before  he  and  they  were 
safely  on  board  the  steamer.  They  might  have  changed 
their  plans  and  decided  to  catch  the  boat  at  Southampton 
instead  of  Cherbourg.  Half  concealed  behind  a  window- 
blind,  he  watched  the  stream  of  porters  and  passengers  and 
eventually  settled  down  into  something  like  calm.  So  far 
they  had  not  shown  up.  With  a  waving  of  handkerchiefs 
the  train  steamed  out,  and  the  green  fields  and  hedges  of 
England  slipped  past  at  fifty  miles  an  hour. 

At  the  end  of  their  journey,  a  row  of  stewards  in  trim 
white  jackets  devoured  the  small  packages,  suitcases,  um- 
brellas and  the  like  which  otherwise  might  have  been  lost 
to  the  world  of  tips,  and  so  at  last  the  vessel  which  was  to 
be  their  home  for  a  week  or  so  received  its  heterogeneous 
family. 

The  allotted  cabin,  the  library,  the  lounge,  the  smoking 
room,  the  dining-saloon,  the  purser's  office — all  in  turn  were 
discovered  and  investigated.  A  telegram  was  claimed  and 
proved  to  be  "'"x)d  Luck"  from  his  father;  then  came 
the  order,  "  '  isitors  on  shore!"  The  gangway  was 
lifted,  and  with  one  last  cheer  the  liner  sheered  off  and 
swung  into  the  stream. 

Then  began  the  deck-parade.  Still  no  sign  of  the  Ray- 
monds. 

Slowly  the  wharf  faded  into  the  distance,  and  then 
Charles  made  his  way  to  the  library,  where  seats  for  dinner 
were  to  be  allotted. 

Quite  a  number  of  passengers  were  standing  in  queue, 
for  the  saloon  list  was  heavy,  and  those  who  wished  to 

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1 

4 


choose  their  sitting  had  better  choose  now.  A  little  old 
fellow  inadvertently  stepped  in  ahead  of  Charles,  then  apol- 
ogized. 

"No  harm  done,"  said  the  latter.  "You  won't  get  any- 
thing more  to  eat." 

Those  who  heard  it  laughed,  among  whom  was  Mr.  Ray- 
mond himself. 

"Well,  well— Mr.  Fitzmorris,"  clapping  Charles  on  the 
shoulder,  "what  wind  blew  you  here?  Are  you  alone? 
Why  then,  join  our  table— I  was  just  looking  for  a  fourth, 
Madeline  and  Mrs.  Raymond  join  the  ship  at  Cherbourg— 
don't  wish  to  face  the  customs  officers  twice  over." 

Needless  to  say,  Charles  was  delighted,  and  joined  the 
American  in  a  cigar  on  deck,  more  than  satisfied  with  this 
turn  of  fortune. 

"Nice  old  boat,"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  as  they  leaned  over 
the  railing.  "Crossed  the  Atlantic  in  her  ten  times.  Not 
so  showy  as  the  new  high-steppers,  but  pretty  sure  of  her 
eighteen  knots,  and  doesn't  roll  more  than  she  ought  to. 
Chief  Steward's  an  old  friend,  and  keeps  a  special  ice- 
chest  for  me.  In  the  big  ships  a  fellow  gets  lost  in  the 
crowd." 
"Did  you  stay  in  Paris  long?" 

"No  longer  than  I  could  help.  I  thought  I'd  done  my 
duty  if  I  paid  the  bills,  so  after  two  days  I  left  the  girls 
and  slipped  over  to  Mainz  and  Leipzig  and  Amsterdam  and 
Antwerp  coming  back  by  London  to  have  a  day  with  the 
Caxtons  at  the  British  Museum.  My,  but  it  was  a  great 
trip,  no  one  to  drag  me  to  sights  I  did  not  want  to  see. 
Let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Fitzmorris,  to  a  printer  like  myself 
Westrainstei  is  the  place  where  William  Caxton  at  the  Sign 
of  the  Red  Pale  brought  out  the  first  English  books— it  is 
not  the  place  where  English  Kings  are  crowned.  On  this 
trip  I  learned  more  about  Gutenberg  and  the  Elzevirs  and 
Plantin  than  I  would  in  a  thousand  years  in  Chicago.  And 
the  Graphic  Arts  Exhibition  in  Leipzig  was  a  wonder." 
"Any  American  exhibits?" 
Mr.  Raymond's  face  darkened. 


200 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"Goddammit,  no !"  he  growled.  "We  are  slow  as  molasses 
in  January.  I  could  have  gotten  up  a  booth  myself  that 
would  have  made  quite  a  hit,  if  I  had  only  known  in  time. 
But  that's  the  trouble  with  us  Aniericans.  We  have  been 
blowing  too  long  without  showing  we  have  the  goods.  And 
we  have  the  goods.  There's  no  finer  printing  done  any- 
where than  in  the  United  States  to-day." 

Charles  smiled  inwardly  as  he  heard  this  confession,  but 
was  too  polite  to  make  capital  out  of  it. 

"We  see  Scribner's  and  the  Century  and  Harper's,"  he 
said,  "but  not  much  else." 

"Well,  my  boy,  you  are  going  to  see  a  whole  lot  more. 
I  can't  tell  you  how  glad  I  am  you  are  coming  across. 
I  ly  trip  has  shown  me  what  a  false  impression  you  have, 
for  instance,  of  Oiicago.  You  think  of  us  as  The  Jungle 
of  Upton  Sinclair,  living  in  an  air  of  squealing  pigs  and 
lousy  Poles,  rich  and  purse-proud,  or  squalid,  dirty  and  il- 
literate. I  want  you  to  see  our  homes,  our  work  for  good 
citizenship,  our  efforts  to  make  life  beautiful,  our  parks 
and  care  for  the  children.  We  are  not  just  dollar-hunters 
as  so  many  of  you  folk  in  Europe  seem  to  think.  We  may 
have  begun  life  in  a  shack,  but  v/e  send  our  young  archi- 
tects now  to  train  in  Rome  and  Paris." 

"And  bring  them  back  to  build  your  sky-scrapers," 

"Why  not?  Why  should  they  build  Greek  temples  or 
Roman  arches?  Why  not  take  the  fine  construction  and 
design  and  decoration  of  Greece  an^  "lome  and  the  Renais- 
sance and  adapt  them  to  the  building  problems  of  our 
business  cities  ?  I  know  you  think  of  sky-scrapers  as  mon- 
strosities— perhaps  some  of  them  are — but  when  you  come 
to  study  them  without  prejudice  you  will  find  many  of  them 
well-proportioned,  well  designed,  and  rich  in  beautiful  de- 
tail. The  tall  building  is  not  necessarily  ugly,  though  I 
grant  you  it  would  be  wiser  to  regulate  the  height  accord- 
ing to  the  width  of  the  street  and  the  light  available. 
Streets  are  like  the  margins  of  a  book.  You  should  not 
crowd  or  dwarf  them," 

Hitherto  Charles  had  thought  of  Mr.  Raymond  merely  as 


Uii 


I 


DRUMS  AFAR 


aoi 


an  incubus  on  Madeline,  but  now  he  loomed  up  differently. 

Mrs.  Raymond  and  her  daughter  duly  appeared  at  Cher- 
bourg, only  to  disi-ppear  into  their  cabins.  At  dinner  Made- 
line came  to  table  in  dazzling  green  and  gold.  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond beamed  on  Charles,  evidently  satisfied  at  her  hus- 
band's choice  of  fourth. 

"Hope  you  play  bridge,"  she  said.    "We're  auction  fans." 

"If  the  stakes  are  not  too  high,"  assented  Charles. 

"Quite  right,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Raymond.  "Gambling 
is  a  bad  habit,  unless  you  deal  the  cards  yourself." 

Charles  and  Madeline  started  the  game  of  guessing  "who's 
who"  among  the  passengers. 

The  English  were  easy  enough  to  distinguish  from  the 
Americans,  and  on  the  whole  kept  together.  One  graceful, 
piquant  girl,  who  strode  along  the  deck  as  if  it  were  a 
moor,  was  in  marked  contrast  to  the  high-heeled  New 
Worldlings.  A  sporting  parson  made  friends  and  romped 
with  the  children,  whose  mothers  reciprocated  by  attending 
Divine  Service  on  Sunday  morning. 

Not  till  he  had  cursed  the  bath-steward  for  being  late 
did  Charles  discover  that  the  clock  went  back  three  quarters 
of  an  hour  each  day  on  the  west-bound  voyage. 

"They  put  one  over  on  us  this  time,"  said  Madeline,  who 
confessed  to  the  same  mistake  as  they  met  on  deck. 

"Lucky  for  me,"  he  answered,  "it  gives  me  forty-five  min- 
utes a  day  more  with  you." 

"Glad  you  didn't  mention  beauty  sleep,"  she  said.  "If  I 
allowed  myself  more  than  seven  hours  in  bed,  I  should  grow 
fat  like  mother.  She  is  the  laziest  old  thing  I  ever  struck — 
hates  to  get  up  before  lunch.  Say,  I'm  glad  you've  come 
along." 

"So  am  I,"  he  said,  "so  long  as  the  sea  is  quiet.  How 
many  times  round  the  deck  makes  a  mile?" 

"Six  times  makes  an  appetite  for  breakfast,"  she  replied. 
"Cnnieon!" 

"I'm  so  excited,"  she  said,  after  they  had  turned  the 
first  corner,  "my  concert  seems  to  have  made  a  hit  on  the 
other  side.    Mrs.  Van  Tromp,  the  society  leader  who  gets 


702 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Hi 


1 1'  -. 


I' 


up  all  those  crazy  stunts  at  Newport,  has  cabled  me  an 
invitation  to  a  Chinese  dinner  she  is  giving  the  Saturday  of 
the  week  we  arrive  at  New  York.  She  never  asks  any 
one  to  Rockwood — that's  her  Newport  home — outside  the 
Four  Hundred  except  celebrities,  so  I  must  be  one  now. 
Mother  would  give  her  little  finger  to  be  asked  too.  I  am  to 
go  on  to  the  Oriental  Ball  at  Carrara  Cottage,  Mrs.  Schom- 
berg's  million  dollar  place — she's  another  of  the  leaders. 
Every  one  in  Paris  was  talking  about  it — it's  to  be  the 
big  splurge  of  the  season," 

"Mrs.  Schomberg?"  said  Charles,  musing.  "I  remember 
her.  Suffragette  and  that  sort  of  thing;  mother  of  the 
Duchess  of  Ramillies.    I  think  I'll  go  myself." 

"You!"  she  exclaimed,  with  such  an  expression  of  in- 
credulity that  he  was  put  on  his  mettle.  "I'll  bet  you  a 
hundred  dollars  you  don't.  The  Duchess  herself  will  be 
there.     It's  the  most  exclusive " 

At  which  he  took  out  his  notebook  and  jotted  down  the 
date. 

"Hundred  dollars  did  you  say?  That's  too  much.  Make 
it  cigarettes." 

"I  like  your  nerve,"  she  said  and 'dropped  the  subject 
as  if  his  going  were  too  remote  from  possibility  to  discuss. 

Charles,  however,  thought  to  himself. 

"If  she  fancies  I'm  to  play  second  fiddle,  she  has  made 
the  mistake  of  her  life." 

After  breakfast  he  went  to  the  wireless  office,  and  offered 
the  operator  a  cigar. 

"Ever  hear  of  a  place  called  Newport  ?"  he  asked.  "Some 
sort  of  social  centre  in  the  United  States." 

"Newport,  Rhode  Island,  you  mean — naval  station — ^you 
bet  I  do." 

"Ever  hear  about  a  Mrs.  Schomberg  there?" 

"Ever  hear  of  Bamum  and  Builey  ?  She's  the  best  para- 
graphed woman  in  the  United  States." 

"You  mean  she  gets  her  name  in  the  papers  ?" 

"You  can't  keep  her  out,  she  has  all  the  press  agents 
skinned." 


tllj 


I' 

1 


DRUMS  AFAR 

"Well,  take  two  messages  for  me — reply  prepaid." 
To  Mrs.  Shomberg  the  cable  read, 


203 


"Am  visiting  United  States  on  mission  to  write  and  il- 
lustrate typical  American  Society.  Kindly  make  appoint- 
ment interview  Saturday  July  23rd  at  Newport  only  date 
available.  You  may  remember  our  front  page  your  last 
visit  to  England.  Charles  Fitzmorris, 

Director  Pen  and  Pencil. 

To  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  he  sent  a  similar  cable,  omitting  the 
last  paragraph  referring  to  the  portrait. 

"Why  prepaid?"  said  the  wireless  man,  grinning  as  he 
read  the  messages.  "They'll  send  a  special  train  to  meet 
you." 

Deck  quoits,  shuffleboard  and  tennis  with  rings  for  balls 
and  hands  for  racquets  and  a  string  for  a  net  helped  to 
pass  the  morning,  while  in  the  afternoon  the  passengers 
from  Queenstown,  a  snooze  and  a  book  under  the  eye  of 
Mrs.  Raymond,  bridged  the  interval  to  dinner.  Charles 
had  fixed  his  deck-chair  next  that  of  the  elder  lady,  and  was 
assiduous  at  just  the  right  time.  All  the  while  he  kept  won- 
dering whether  his  cable  would  draw  blood. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  as  they  were  dining  in  the 
saloon  that  evening  the  replies  were  handed  to  him.  With 
a  quiet  chuckle  he  passed  them  on  to  Miss  Raymond. 

"Delighted  to  see  you.    Invitation  to  dinner  meets  your 
steamer  at  New  York.     Bring  Chinese  Costume, 

Elsie  Van  Tromp." 

"You  must  come  to  my  Oriental  Ball.  Can  lend  you 
costume  of  Ming  dynasty.  House  full  but  have  arranged 
with  friends  take  care  of  you.    Cable  address  New  York." 

Blanche  Schomberg." 

"I  usually  smoke  Pall  Mall,  King's  Size,"  he  said,  as  he 
saw  her  eyebrows  lift. 
"However  did  you  do  it!"  she  exclaimed.     From  her 


204 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 


tone  he  could  see  that  her  respect  for  him  had  gone  up 
mightily. 

"Easy  enough  when  you  have  a  friend,"  he  replied.  "The 
only  thing  that  troubles  me  is  that  I  never  learned  your 
American  dances.  I  can  waltz,  of  course,  and  struggle 
through  the  Lancers,  but  this  Fox  Trot  is  beyond  mv  in- 
tellect." 

"You  have  six  days  on  board  this  steamer  to  reform," 
she  replied.  "Father  can  whistle  ragtime,  and  I  could  write 
a  book  on  the  steps.  You  are  just  the  height  and  build  to 
make  quite  a  dancer,  isn't  he,  mother?  Why,  we  are  going 
to  have  the  time  of  our  lives." 

"Weather  permitting,"  interjected  Mr.  Raymond.  "If 
this  breeze  doesn't  die  down,  I  can  see  you  batty  on  Hesi- 
tation." 

"By  the  way,"  said  Charles  ingenuously,  "is  Newport  on 
the  Atlantic  or  the  Pacific?" 

The  question  amused  them  so  much  that  it  was  a  minute 
or  so  before  any  of  the  Raymonds  could  speak. 

"In  July  and  August,"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  the  first  to 
recover,  "it  is  the  whole  world  to  quite  a  number  of  good 
Americans.  If  they  can't  be  paragraphed  as  seen  on  Bailey's 
Beach  in  a  two-piece  bathing  suit  they  would  cry  their 
eyes  out.  Fact  is,  Mr.  Fitzmorris,  we  Americans  are  the 
worst  kind  of  snobs,  and  if  your  name  appears  on  Mrs. 
Van  Tromp's  dinner  list  a  million  freebom  American  citi- 
zens will  eat  out  of  your  hand.  It's  like  this.  She  gives 
the  Society  Editors  something  to  talk  about.  We  have  no 
Buckingham  Palace  with  Drawing  Rooms  and  Presenta- 
tions, but  we  have  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  and  her  stunts  at 
Newport." 

Madeline  Raymond  lost  no  time.  That  evening  up  on  the 
boat-deck  she  gave  Charles  his  first  lesson  in  the  necessary 
steps,  her  father  whistling  the  music.  With  his  arm  around 
Madeline's  waist,  and  the  touch  of  her  bosom  on  his  own 
breast,  Charies  thrilled  with  a  strange  emotion.  His  sense 
of  rhythm  made  him  quick  to  Larn,  she  herself  stepped 
as  light  as  a  feather,  her  hair  brushed  his  cheek,  its  faint 


DRUMS  AFAR 


205 


sweet  perfume  caressing  his  now  enchanted  senses.  She 
on  her  part  was  passionately  fond  of  dancing  and  rejoiced 
to  find  so  apt  a  pupil.  For  the  first  time  she  realized  how 
muscular  he  was,  and,  as  she  looked  up  sometimes  into  his 
face,  how  handsome.  At  first  she  guided  him,  then  found 
he  had  the  instinct. 

"Great!"  she  said.  "We'll  make  a  real  dancer  out  of 
you  before  you  know  where  you  arc." 

"I  don't  care  where  I  am,"  he  whispered,  "so  long  as 
you  are  there." 

The  moon  was  bright  enough  to  show  she  was  not  of- 
fended. 

After  such  an  evening  it  was  impossible  to  sleep.  As 
he  lay  in  his  berth  with  eyes  half  closed,  Charles  felt  his 
heart  throb  with  remembrance  of  her  touch.  He  wondered 
how  he  had  been  able  to  refrain  from  clasping  her  still 
closer  and  passionately  kissing  her — if  only  her  fath  ad 
not  been  there,  he  must  have  done  it.  Some  day,  u  uck 
would  have  it,  they  would  be  alone.  Once  or  twice,  by 
inadvertence,  he  had  held  her  closer  than  was  necessary, 
but  she  did  not  seem  to  mind.  He  remembered  how  she 
looked  up  into  his  eyes  with  a  questioning  look  which  seemed 
to  ask  "Why  did  you  do  that?" 

Dancing,  after  all,  was  not  so  effeminate  as  he  had  fan- 
cied. At  any  rate  it  gave  one  opportunities  which  he  would 
be  a  fool  to  let  slip. 

How  beautiful  she  was!  That  arching  mouth  was  irre- 
sistible—and those  ears,  so  delicately  shaped  and  placed. 
Her  dark  hair  was  silky,  with  so  many  coils  piled  up  that 
it  must  surely  fall  down  to  her  knees  if  it  were  loosened. 
He  was  glad  she  wore  no  earrings,  and  there  was  only 
one  ring  on  one  finger  of  her  right  hand.  Her  hands  were 
perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of  all,  and  firm  as  they  were 
beautiful.    No,  she  was  not  the  feeble,  clinging  type. 

In  such  a  mood,  Charles  would  have  quarrelled  with  any 
one  who  found  any  fault  with  Madeline.  He  was  infected 
by  her  atmosphere,  and  saw  her  only  with  the  glamour  of 
youth. 


If 


ll 


■      it 
t     2 


4 

i 

'  3 


206 


DRUMS  AFAR 


An  hour  of  fitful  slumber,  and  then  the  dawn  called 
him  once  more  on  deck.  With  a  leap  of  the  heart  he  found 
that  she  also  was  up  to  greet  the  sun. 

"I  could  not  sleep,"  she  said.  And  remembering  the 
sleepless  night  he  himself  had  spent,  the  heaviness  that  had 
oppressed  his  eyes,  the  fatigue  of  the  long  restless  night 
passed  away  as  if  by  magic. 

"She  cares  for  me,"  he  whispered  to  himself,  yet  dared 
not  look  into  her  face  lest  he  should  find  himself  deceived. 

"How  beautiful  the  dawn  is!"  he  said,  as  he  leaned  on 
the  rail  beside  her.  "Surely  this  is  the  perfect  hour  of 
the  day.  The  air  seem,  like  a  living  soul,  born  of  the  dark 
and  holding  its  arms  out  to  the  light.  The  first  faint  sun- 
shine comes  as  a  caress,  and  the  whole  world  fills  with  hap- 
piness." 

"To  me,"  she  replied,  "the  air  seems  to  be  more  full  of 
music  when  the  day  breaks  than  when  the  sun  is  high.  On 
land,  out  in  the  fields,  of  course  you  hear  the  birds  twit- 
tering and  singing  as  the  light  awakes  them.  But  here 
at  sea  also,  there  is  a  cadence  in  the  earliest  breath  of  wind 
which  one  does  not  notice  in  the  later  breeze." 

"The  world  is  simpler  in  the  dawn,"  he  answered.  "By 
noon  it  has  become  more  complex.  The  air  becomes  crowd- 
ed with  light  and  with  so  many  voices.  The  eyes  see  too 
much,  the  ears  are  deafened." 

"Everything  just  now  seems  elemental." 

As  the  sun  raced  up,  more  people  came  on  deck,  sailors 
clattered  along  behind  them,  white  caps  appeared  upon  the 
sea,  the  spell  was  broken. 

"Mother  will  wonder  where  I  am,"  she  said  with  a  sigh. 
"I  think  I  had  better  go  back  to  our  cabin." 

But  she  smiled  at  him  as  she  disap  3ared  into  the  door- 
way, as  if  to  say  "We  understand  each  other  now." 

"My  wife  believes  in  taking  it  easy,"  said  Mr.  Raymond 
who  appeared  alone  at  the  breakfast  table.  "She  won't 
appear  in  public  till  she  is  sure  of  the  weather.  Madeline 
is  keeping  her  company." 

Charles  spent  the  next  two  hours  on  the  port  deck, 


DRUMS  AFAR 


207 


where  their  chairs  were,  always  at  the  other  end,  but  always 
with  one  eye  on  the  door  through  which  they  were  likely 
to  come  on  deck.  When  at  last  they  appeared,  he  pre- 
tended not  to  notice  them  till  they  were  settled  down  in 
their  rugs.  As  he  sauntered  up  he  found  Madeline  back 
again  on  earth,  and  laughing  over  a  volume  she  had  bor- 
rowed from  the  library. 

"What's  the  joke?"  he  asked. 

"Nothing,  only  it's  so  old-fashioned. 

She  was  reading  Georges  Ohnet's  "The  Iron  Master," 
and  the  words  which  amused  her  were : 

"Octave  and  Claire  grew  up,  reared  by  their  mother — 
the  heir  in  serious  fashion,  so  that  he  might  become  a  useful 
man,  the  daughter  de'-citely,  so  that  she  might  charm  the 
life  of  the  suitor  she     lected." 

"No  wonder  these  Frenchmen  are  so  conceited,"  she 
said.    "Their  women  exist  merely  to  charm  them." 

"What  must  a  man  do  to  satisfy  an  American  wife?" 

"He  must  suit  himself  to  her  wishes,  just  as  much  as 
she  suits  herself  to  his." 

"I  thought  the  American  man  put  business  first." 

"That's  why  so  many  American  women  leave  their  homes 
for  Europe." 

The  ever  changing  sea  was  a  never  failing  interest :  now 
leaden  grey,  now  a  slaty  blue,  now  the  winedark  ocean; 
then  in  the  setting  sun  a  sheet  of  rose  madder;  lastly,  as 
seen  through  the  port-hole  of  the  dining-saloon  deep  blue 
turning  to  purple,  and  so  to-night,  luminous  with  stars. 

That  night  again — another  moonlight  night — he  had  an- 
other dancing  lesson,  and  once  more  the  sea  of  passion 
flooded  his  senses.  That  night,  however,  he  was  too  tired 
not  to  sleep.  It  was  a  sleep  of  dreams — the  dreams  of  a 
young  lover. 

When  he  awoke  next  morning  the  ship  was  tossing  and 
swaying  so  that  he  could  hardly  shave.  The  fenders  were 
on  the  tables,  and  of  the  few  who  had  had  the  courage 
to  appear  at  breakfast  one  or  two  would  make  dashes  for 


f 


2o8 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 


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IM 


i 


It  i 


the  door.     Charles  and  Mr.  Raymond,  however,  proved 
immune,  and  spent  the  d^y  in  the  smoking-room. 

Mr.  Raymond  did  most  of  the  talking,  Charles  merely 
putting  in  a  question  now  and  then  to  draw  him  out. 
Love  casts  a  glamour  over  all  the  world  pertaining  to  the 
beloved,  and  even  if  Madeline's  father  had  not  been  an 
entertaining  talker  Charles  would  have  listened  to  him  with 
respect. 

After  the  gale,  they  passed  through  mists,  when  the  fog 
horn  sent  its  shuddering  note  through  the  ship.  Then  camu 
clear  weather  again  when  a  freighter,  or  a  liner,  or  an  oc- 
casional four-masted  sailing  ship  broke  the  line  of  the  hori- 
zon. Once  a  school  of  porpoises  swooped  upon  them  from 
the  North,  playing  at  hide  and  seek  in  the  ship's  white 
wake. 

The  smoking-room  began  to  fill  up  again  with  little  groups 
airmg  conversations.  One  was  between  a  man  with  an  un- 
redeemed Cockney  accent  bragging  about  the  State*— how 
much  better  things  were  done  there  than  in  England.  The 
Saturday  Evening  Post  was  the  greatest  magazine— the 
Ladies'  Home  Jont.ial  was  the  only  real  woman's  paper- 
he  and  his  wife  took  them  regularly  in  Cincinnati— America 
was  twice  as  free  as  England. 

"Where  do  you  come  from  ?"  he  asked  of  the  man  beside 
him. 

"Canada,"  said  the  other  shortly. 

"What  makes  you  stay  up  there  ?  We're  more  alive  and 
prosperous  in  the  States." 

"Yes,  but  I  don't  have  to  shed  my  British  citizenship, 
and  become  a  renegade." 

The  newly-made  American  flushed. 

"I'm  better  off  now  than  ever  I  was  in  England." 

To  which  the  Canadian  growled, 

"You  look  the  kind  of  man  who  would  sell  his  countrv 
for  a  dollar."  ^ 

"Hold  on,  there,"  interrupted  a  third,  "this  is  an  Ameri- 
can  ship." 

"Good  ship  too,  sir,— no  offence  intended  to  you." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


209 


IN 


He  rose  and  left,  the  others  following  shortly  after. 

The  Americans  on  board,  Charles  noticed,  talked  less  of 
London  than  they  did  of  Paris,  Beriin  and  Vienna. 
„  "^^.^^^  children  of  Europe,"  explained  Mr.  Raymond, 
not  of  Great  Britain  alone.  America  was  planted  and 
replanted  by  the  Dutch,  the  German,  the  French,  the  Slav 
and  the  Israelite  just  as  much  as  by  the  Irish,  the  Scotch 
and  the  English.  We  may  be  said  to  speak  the  language 
of  Shakspere,  but  even  Shakspere  is  claimed  now  by  the 
Germans, 

As  he  looked  down  at  the  emigrants  on  the  lower  deck 
aft,  Charles  saw  that  there  seemed  to  be  more  foreigners 
than   British:   dark-haired   women  suckling  babes   at   the 
open  breast,  Scandinavian  men  dancing  with  each  other 
to  the  wheeze  of  a  concertina,  refugees  from  overcrowded 
Russia  huddled  in  a  comer  as  if  not  yet  daring  to  breathe 
the  air  of  freedom.     From  these  the  British  seemed  to 
hold  aloof—not  that  they  were  any  better,  though  they 
seemed  better  clothed  and  less  unwashed. 
Two  days  passed  before  he  saw  Madeline  again. 
"I  suppose  you  think  me  a  coward,"  she  said,  as  he 
tucked  her  into  her  wraps,  "and  I  suppose  I  am.    Mother 
asked  me  to  stay  down  and  keep  her  company,  and  honestly 
I  was  glad  of  the  excuse." 

"Only  three  days  more  to  New  York,"  said  Charles,  "and 
the  Captain  prophesies  fine  weather.    Sports  are  announced 
for  this  afternoon,  concert  for  to-morrow  evening  and  a 
masquerade  dance  for  the  last  night  of  all.     I  told  the 
purser  you  could  sing." 
"And  I'll  tell  him  you  can  dance,"  she  replied  merrily. 
We  must  practise  again  to-night.     What  will  you  learn 
next— Boston  Glide  or  the  One  Step  or  the  Maxixe?" 
I'What  shall  we  have  to  dance  at  Mrs.  Schomberg's  ball?" 
That  won't  be  a  real  dance.     It'll  be  a  crush  where 
people  go  to  see  and  to  be  seen.     But  we'll  have  lots  of 
dancing  elsewhere— that's  if  you  come  to  Chicago.    They 
d.ince  there  all  day  long— you  have  it  to  every  meal  and 
between  and  after  meals." 


li 


< 


I 


2IO 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"Don't  make  the  prospect  too  horrible,"  said  Charles. 
"Otherwise  I  may  never  go  at  all." 

"Not  even  if  I  ask  you?"  she  said,  catching  his  right 
hand  with  her  left. 

Charles  felt  himself  suddenly  trembling  from  head  to 
foot  with  excitement. 

With  an  effort  he  pulled  himself  together. 

"Do  you  really  want  me  to  come?"  he  said,  sinking  into 
the  chair  beside  her. 

"Ask  me  at  the  masquerade,"  she  said  provokingly.  "It 
will  depend  on  how  you  dance." 

The  next  three  dp>'s  for  Charles  were  days  of  feverish 
anticipation.  He  was  eager  to  see  the  New  World,  of 
which  New  York  was  the  gateway.  He  was  eager  to 
know  the  new  world  to  which  Madeline  was  beckoning 
him,  a  world  of  love  and  kisses.  He  knew  that  the  invi- 
tation was  signed  and  sealed  in  her  heart,  though  not  de- 
livered. He  felt  her  trembling  now  sometimes  as  he  held 
her  close  to  him  in  the  dance,  and  return  the  pressure  of 
his  hand.  At  the  concert  she  sang  only  love-songs,  and 
though  she  did  not  look  at  him  once  while  she  sang,  he 
knew  they  were  meant  for  him. 

At  the  masquerade  Madeline  appeared  as  an  Alsatian, 
a  broad  black  silk  bow  on  her  head,  in  bodice  of  embroidered 
silk  with  puffed  white  sleeves,  an  apron  over  her  short  blue 
skirt  and  buckled  shoes  on  her  blue-stockinged  feet,  a 
charming  figure  and  therefore  much  in  demand.  But  for 
Charles,  who  came  late  in  plumage  of  white  cap  and  apron 
borrowed  from  the  chef,  she  had  considerately  reserved 
his  share. 

"We  shall  have  to  sit  out  some  of  these,"  she  said,  "oth- 
erwise we  shall  be  too  conspicuous," 

"So  much  the  better,"  he  said  daringly.  "Let's  find  the 
darkest  comer." 

He  knew  that  the  moment  was  approaching,  and  the 
thought  made  him  dance  as  if  in  a  dream.  By  this  time 
he  had  fallen  under  the  spell  of  ragtime,  and  the  delight 
of  syncopated  rhythm  and  of  stepping  and  gliding  to  the 


DRUMS  AFAR 


211 


strains  with  one  who  moved  in  such  harmony  was  so 
exquisite  that  the  orchestra  always  seemed  to  end  too  soon. 
Dances  that  she  had  meant  to  sit  out  found,  them  swinging 
to  the  music,  until  late  in  the  evening  she  came  to  him  all 
flustered  with  the  message. 

"Mother  wants  me  to  stop.    What  shall  I  do  ?" 

"Come  with  me  to  the  boat-deck,"  he  answered  quickly. 
"You  promised  to  let  me  know  to-night." 

They  slipped  out  through  the  crowd  of  lookers-on,  and 
were  up  the  steps  before  Mrs.  Raymond  had  noticed  their 
absence.  Giarles  could  have  gone  blindfolded  to  the  comer 
'  e  had  chosen — ^not  a  soul  could  see  them  there. 

She  was  panting  with  excitement  as  they  reached  the 
spot,  but  Charles  was  now  deliberate  and  cool.  He  had 
waited  long  enough,  and  he  meant  to  have  it  out  with  her. 

There  were  two  chairs,  but  neither  of  them  tried  to  sit. 

"Now,"  he  said,  putting  his  hands  on  her  sho'ilders  and 
looking  straight  into  those  deep  pools,  her  e>v.  'Tell  me, 
do  you  want  me  to  come?" 

"Yes,"  she  said  huskily.    "I  do." 

"Is  that  all?"  he  asked,  drawing  her  closer  to  him,  and 
slipping  his  arms  round  so  that  she  Ctiuld  not  escape. 
"After  all  this  waiting,  don't  I  deserve  something  more  ?" 

He  was  taller,  so  she  had  to  lift  her  face  to  him. 

"What  is  it  that  you  want?"  she  whispered. 

"Just  a  little  one,"  he  said,  kissing  her  gently. 

Her  face  turned  pale,  and  he  thought  for  a  moment  she 
was  going  to  faint.  Then  she  lifted  her  hands,  and  flung 
her  arms  round  his  neck. 

"Charles,"  she  said,  giving  him  a  long  warm  kiss.  "You 
dear,  dear  boy!" 


CHAPTER  XXII 

WHEN  Charles  awoke  next  morning,  the  ship  was 
at   anchor.     A   glance   through   the   port-hole 
showed  a  curtain  of  blue  haze,  and  his  watch 
suggested  that  it  was  the  twilight  before  the 
dawn. 

"We  must  be  at  the  harbour  bar,"  he  thought,  and  so 
It  proved  when  he  went  on  deck.  Lights  were  twinkling 
from  a  low  shore,  and  beside  the  ship,  not  more  than  tv 
hundred  yards  away,  was  a  dark  grey  mass  which,  as  the 
light  crept  in,  shaped  itself  into  the  outline  of  a  destroyer. 
Beyond  that  was  a  yacht,  pearly  white,  and  beyond  that 
again  the  wooded  slope  of  a  steep  bank. 

The  stillness  of  the  ship  evidently  awakened  others,  for 
Charles  was  joined  by  a  score  or  so  of  the  four  hundred 
who  on  the  fairer  days  had  crowded  the  Jecks. 

"Going  to  be  a  sizzling  day,"  said  one. 

He  was  right,  for  when  the  steamer  began  to  move 
again  the  air  grew  warmer  and  more  humid,  until  by  the 
time  they  passed  the  Statue  of  Liberty  Charles  decided  to 
slip  into  flannels. 

When  he  appeared  again  on  deck,  Madeline  and  Mrs. 
Raymond  were  there  dressed  for  the  city. 

"Oh,  you  wise  man!"  cried  Mrs.  Raymond,  who  already 
looked  a  trifle  wilted.  "We  are  in  for  a  regular  New  York 
heat  wave.    If  I  lose  my  temper,  blame  the  climate." 

"What  do  you  think  of  our  sky-scrapers  now?"  asked 
Mr.  Raymond,  turning  round  from  the  deck-rail  in  front 
of  them,     "Dont  they  pile  up  fine?" 

"They  certainly  look  less  deadly  than  I  expected,"  said 
Charles,  impressed  in  spite  of  himself  by  the  tall  silhouettes 
grouped  round  and  culminating  in  fhe  Wool  worth.  "They 
suggest  a  race  of  giants  in  business." 


312 


DRUMS  AFAR 


213 


"Said  very  nicely  for  an  Englishman,"  commented  Made- 
line with  a  smile.     "We  feel  quite  perked  up." 

"Talking  of  giants,"  remarked  Mr.  Raymond,  "look  at 
these  German  liners  at  Hoboken.  That  must  be  the  Kron- 
princessin  Cdcilie.  I  wish  we  could  have  seen  the  Vater- 
land.  Gehosophat!  one  certainly  must  hand  it  to  these 
Deutschers." 

The  other  passengers  evidently  shared  his  feelings,  for 
there  was  a  general  stampede  to  the  port  deck. 

Then  they  came  abreast  of  the  American  Line  quay,  and 
as  the  tugs  punched  and  pulled  the  ship  into  her  berth, 
hundreds  of  small  American  flags  were  produced  and  waved 
to  the  crowd  of  waiting  friends  on  the  wharf. 

Then  "Hello  Bill,"  "Hello  Mary,"  "Had  a  good  trip?" 
"How's  Mother?"  and  a  thousand  such  greetings  passed 
between  ship  and  shore  till  the  gangway  was  connected 
and  the  passengers  who  had  been  pent  up  for  a  week  poured 
out.  Charles,  who  yielded  place  politely  to  a  party  of 
school-teachers,  got  separated  from  the  Raymonds  and,  as 
the  trunks  for  the  F's  arrived  before  the  R's,  took  the 
opportunity  of  getting  his  cleared  through  the  customs. 

Then  after  sending  a  wire  to  Kelly  announcing  his  ar- 
rival he  went  in  search  of  Madeline,  whom  he  found  in 
tears  beside  her  Saratogas,  watching  the  pitiless  onslaught 
of  the  inspectors  on  her  Paris  trophies. 

"Talk  of  hooligans  and  apaches!"  she  sobbed.  "This  is 
the  most  outrageous,  the  most  barbarous  country  in  the 
world.  Just  look  at  these  brutes.  They  handle  lace  as  if 
it  were  tarpaulin.     Can't  you  do  something?" 

The  general  atmosphere  of  fury  among  the  lady  passen- 
gers proved  that  Madeline  was  not  the  only  victim.  But 
she  was  evidently  in  no  mood  to  argue.  So  sauntering  up 
to  the  most  aggressive  customs  man,  a  ruffianly  edition  of 
the  Kelly  he  had  known  at  Oxford,  Charles  took  a  chance 
shot. 

"Have  a  heart,  officer."  he  said,  offering  a  cigar.    "This 
lady  is  also  Irish." 
"Sure,  and  isn't  that  the  noble  race?"  was  the  grinning 


214 


DRUMS  AFAR 


reply.  "Patrick  O'Doherty,  come  here  and  mark  these 
trunks.    They're  passed." 

Her  wrath  turned  suddenly  to  merriment,  Madeline  could 
hardly  thank  her  rescuer  for  laughing. 

"You  certainly  are  a  wonder,"  she  said  as  she  folded 
and  put  back  the  salvage.    "Who  taujjht  you  the  secret  ?" 

"It  was  just  a  lucky  guess.    Where  is  your  mother?" 

"Trying  to  make  good  with  father  somewhere.  She 
needed  him  to  pay  the  duty  on  her  hats,  and  it  certainly 
was  some  duty.  There  they  are.  She  looks  as  if  she  had 
won  out." 

Mr.  Raymond  seemed  depressed,  but  cheered  up  when 
he  found  that  Madeline  had  no  similar  demands  to  follow. 

"Thank  Mr.  Fitzmorris  for  that,"  she  said,  and  with  the 
tale  restored  his  humour  as  they  drove  to  the  hotel. 

There  were  two  hours  to  put  in  before  luncheon,  but  it 
was  nearly  all  that  time  before  the  insinuating  barber  into 
whose  chair  th;  unsuspecting  Charies  had  sunk  released  his 
impoverished  but  exhilarated  victim.  Then  just  as  he  re- 
joined the  Raymonds,  Kelly's  answer  was  handed  to  hin: : 

"Crazy  to  see  you  old  son  of  a  gun  gee  but  Im  glad 
where  can  I  meet  you  newport  boston  or  new  york  wire 
quick  to  eleven  forest  avenue  evanston  why  not  come 
straight  to  a  real  city  the  latch  string  is  out  for  you  fitz  old 
man  if  any  one  else  wants  you  say  nothing  doing      mike." 

"Where  is  Evanston?"  asked  Charles  of  Mr.  Raymond, 
showing  him  Kelly's  telegram.  "Is  this  a  suburb  of  Chi- 
cago ?" 

"Most  people  think  so,"  replied  Mr.  Raymond,  "except 
the  dyed-in-the-wool  Evanstonian  to  whom  Chicago  is  the 
suburb  of  Evanston.  Our  own  home  is  in  the  same  street, 
so  that  if  you  accept  your  friend's  invitation  we  shall  still 
be  neighbours.  And  I  don't  see  why  w^  should  not  travel 
together.  We  shouldn't  like  to  Icse  Mr.  Fitzmorris  on  the 
road,  should  we,  Madeline?" 

"Evanston,"  replied  that  elusive  damsel,  "is  Chicago's 


DRUMS  AFAR 


215 


highbrow  quarter.  It  takes  its  tone  from  the  Northwestern 
University,  and  is  as  literary,  artistic  and  musical  as  you  can 
expect  to  find  outside  Paris.  The  Kellys  must  have  taken 
a  house  there  since  we  left  for  Europe — they  used  to  live 
in  Lincoln  Park." 
I  "Say,  mother,"  continued  Mr.  Raymond,  turning  to  his 

wife,  "how  long  will  it  take  you  to  get  ready  for  I^ke 
Geneva?  Suppose  Mr.  Fitzmorris  spends  a  few  days  with 
his  friends,  after  Newport,  and  then  comes  along  with 
us?" 

"That  would  just  suit  fine,"  replied  Mrs.  Raymond,  wire- 
lessing with  her  eyes  to  Madeline,  whose  smile  was  suffi- 
cient answer.  "I  can  do  the  house  over  by  Friday,  and  we 
can  leave  Saturday.  Most  people  will  be  on  vacation,  so 
we  won't  be  interrupted  with  calls.  We  should  like  to 
offer  you  a  room,"  she  explained  hospitably  to  Charles, 
"but  you  can  understand  that  after  being  away  three  years 
we  are  hardly  ready  to  look  after  guests.  But  in  our 
summer  cottage  at  Lake  Geneva  it  will  be  different,  and 
you  will  indeed  be  welcome." 

"You  are  too  good  to  me,"  said  Charles,  diffidently  seiz- 
ing this  opportunity  of  being  with  Madeline,  "but  I  fear 
this  is  imposing  too  much " 

"That's  settled,"  said  Mr.  Raymond  decisively.  "We'll  all 
leave  Newport  together.  I  guess  we  had  bet'.er  go  by  Bos- 
ton. It  is  closer  to  Newport  than  New  York,  and  just 
thirty  hours  run  from  Chicago." 

So  oppressive  was  the  heat  that  they  decided  to  leave 
for  Boston  that  same  evening.  Charles  had  received  his 
formal  invitations  for  the  dinner  and  ball  at  Newport 
from  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  and  Mrs.  Schomberg,  and  though 
there  was  no  special  train,  there  was  a  letter  from  an 
unknown  Mrs.  Dubois,  offering  him  hospitality  for  the 
night  of  the  ball,  saying  she  had  his  costume  and  asking 
him  to  name  the  train  by  which  he  should  arrive  so  that 
she  could  send  her  car  to  fetch  him. 

"Here,  too,  we  shall  be  neighbours,"  said  Madeline.    "The 


2l6 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Dubois  live  next  door  to  the  Schuylers  with  whom  we 
ourselves  are  staying." 

After  lunch,  Madeline  and  Mr.  Raymond  were  eager  to 
show  Charles  Fifth  Avenue,  Mrs.  Raymond  hugging  her 
room  on  the  plea  of  headache.  He  would  have  been  con- 
tent if  Mr.  Raymond  had  also  remained  behind,  but  pre- 
ferred two  Raymonds  to  no  Raymond  at  all.  Madeline, 
knowing  that  soon  she  would  have  to  make  the  great  con- 
fession, could  not  be  too  affectionate  towards  her  father, 
with  the  result  that  he  was  in  excellent  humour. 

Although  the  social  columns  said  that  New  York  was 
"empty,"  there  was  an  endless,  slow  procession  of  vehicles 
on  this  delectable  thoroughfare,  so  much  so  that  they  chose 
to  leave  the  car  they  had  hired  and  walk.  Charles  was 
fascinated  even  more  by  the  people  on  the  pavement  than 
by  those  in  vehicles. 

"Every  man,"  he  said,  "looks  as  if  he  had  stepped  out  of 
an  office,  and  every  girl  as  if  she  were  going  to  a  tango 
tea." 

The  shops,  he  thought  had  more  variety  than  those  in 
Regent  Street  or  Bond  Street,  and  had  more  Oriental  wares 
to  offer.  Kelly's  remark  that  Chicago  was  four  thousand 
miles  nearer  Japan  than  London  recalled  itself,  and  Charles 
began  to  realize  that  the  idea  of  an  Oriental  Ball  was  not 
so  very  eccentric. 

Most  attractive  was  a  comer  house  where  flowers  were 
sold,  every  window  dressed  with  window  boxes,  one  mass 
of  leaves  and  blossom.  Then  again  there  was  the  sur- 
prise of  finding  an  immense  store  which  did  not  even  dis- 
play its  name. 

Just  as  they  got  back  to  the  hotel  the  long-due  storm 
burst  down  upon  New  York.  A  hurricane  of  wind  ar  1 
rain  swept  the  streets  clear  ol  human  beings,  tore  do\»n 
signs,  broke  windows,  uprooted  trees,  while  the  lightning 
played  with  tropical  magnificence  and  peal  followed  peal 
with  deafening  rapidity. 

Yet  in  fifteen  minutes  all  was  ovtr,  and  a  cool  sweet 
breeze  lightened  the  air.    Mrs.  Raymond's  headache  evap- 


DRUMS  AFAR 


217 


orated,  and  they  dined,  a  much  relieved  and  conjjenial 
party. 

Charles's  first  impression  of  the  American  sleeping  car 
was  hardly  flattering.  He  shied  at  the  lack  of  privacy, 
for  though  Mrs.  Raymond  and  Madeline  had  secured  for 
themselves  a  compartment,  the  agile  old  lady  in  the  berth 
above  him  showed  more  ankle  in  her  climbing  up  and  com- 
ing down  than  seemed  appropriate.  However,  he  was  able 
to  sleep,  though  the  nearness  of  the  girl  he  loved  filled 
his  mind  with  tempestuous  thoughts  for  a  full  hour  before 
oblivion  came. 

At  the  hotel  in  Boston,  even  more  palatial  and  be-mar- 
bled  than  their  quarters  in  New  York,  the  morning  papers 
told  of  Austria's  threatening  demands  on  Servia. 

"What  do  you  think  of  this  European  mix-up?"  asked 
Mr.  Raymond  of  Charles  as  they  sat  down  to  breakfast. 
"You  are  a  newspaper  man,  and  no  doubt  posted  on  the 
Balkans.  Did  you  read  that  note  from  Vienna?  Isn't  it 
the  limit?" 

Charles  had  been  thoroughly  disturbed  by  the  news. 

"The  worst  feature  of  the  note  is,"  he  said,  "that  it  was 
not  written  in  Vienna.  It  has  all  the  earmarks  of  Berlin, 
and  came  from  the  same  source  as  the  'Mailed  Fist'  and 
the  telegram  to  Kruger.  This  is  not  Austria's  summons 
to  Servia.  It  is  Prussia's  challenge  to  Russia,  and  if  Russia 
means  business  we  are  on  the  eve  of  the  greatest  war  since 
Napoleon." 

"You  don't  say!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Raymond,  echoed  by 
the  murmurs  of  the  two  ladies.  "In  'glad  we  got  back 
when  we  did.  Let's  hope  it's  not  so  bad  as  that.  Anyways, 
we're  here  now.  We  could,"  he  continued,  changing  the 
venue,  "have  gone  direct  to  Newport  from  New  York,  but 
I  did  not  wish  to  lose  this  chance  of  dropping  in  on  Bos- 
ton. This  is  the  home  of  printing  in  America,  and  I  have 
many  friends  to  call  on.  Madeline  and  Mother  can  take 
you  to  the  State  House  and  to  Boston  Common  and  to  the 
Public  Library— you'll  find  in  Trinity  Church  a  window  by 
your  William  Morris " 


3l8 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"Thanks,"  said  Charles.  "I'm  more  interested  in  the 
Boston  Tea  Party." 

"That  will  take  you  to  the  old  South  Church,  enough 
for  one  morning.  We'll  meet  again  at  lunch,  then  catch 
the  tram  for  Newport." 

With  the  aid  of  a  motor-car,  it  was  surprising  how  much 
ground  they  covered  in  the  few  hours  at  their  disposal, 
though  the  narrow  streets  of  the  business  quarter  made 
progress  slow  and  sometimes  p2rilous.  Charles  fell  in  love 
with  the  Public  Library. 

"It's  worth  crossing  the  Atlantic  to  see  this,"  he  said. 

When  I  thmk  of  our  musty   mausoleums   and    see   this 

marble  palace,  I  wonder  how  we  can  look  you  in  the  face. 

If  this  is  the  fruit  of  your  democracy,  call  me  a  Repub- 

hcan.  *^ 

There  was  a  different  air  from  New  York.  The  dresses 
were  not  so  chic,  the  facec  of  the  girls  less  pretty,  the  faces 
of  the  men  less  hard,  more  women  who  looked  like  spinsters 
more  men  who  looked  like  students,  the  air  of  a  city  which 
has  dusty  or  muddy  streets  and  puckers  its  face  against 
mist  or  wmd  and  sits  over  the  fire  of  an  evening  with  a 

DOOlC. 

So  said  Charles,  but  Mr.  Raymond  said : 

"You  have  seen  only  a  comer.  It  takes  a  week  to  motor 
through  the  suburbs  and  the  outskirts.  There  you  see  the 
wide  and  tidy  streets,  the  fresh  green  lawns,  the  fresh 
young  faces,  and,  beyond,  God's  own  country." 

Something  was  evidently  on  Mr.  Raymond's  mind,  for  he 
merely  toyed  with  his  lunch. 

"Say,  girls,"  he  said  at  last,  "I'm  going  to  break  your 
hearts,  or  leave  you  behind  at  Newport.  There's  something 
m  the  wmd  that  doesn't  sound  healthy.  Had  a  wire  from 
Chicago  to  say  the  banks  are  tightening  up.  To-morrow 
sees  me  on  the  road  for  home.  No  Bailey's  Beach  for 
mme." 

The  faces  of  the  women  fell. 

Madeline  was  the  first  to  recover. 

"Never  mind.  Father,"  she  said,  patting  his  hand,  "we'll 


DRUMS  AFAR 


219 


go  with  you.  We've  had  two  years  in  Europe,  so  what's  a 
week-end  here?  So  long  as  you  don't  cut  out  the  Ball, 
what's  the  odds?" 

"That's  the  girl,"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  cheerful  again,  and 
helping  himself  to  a  plateful  of  neglected  mayonnaise. 

They  saw  a  little  of  the  country  on  the  road  to  Newport, 
though  Charles  was  too  intent  listening  to  Madeline  to  look 
much  out  of  the  window.  She  was  talking  of  her  friend 
Mrs.  Schuyler,  a  schoolfellow  married  to  a  wealthy  stock- 
broker, now  in  the  inner  Newport  circle,  and  sponsor  for 
her  own  iivitation  to  to-night's  aflFair. 

As  they  drew  nearer  their  destination,  the  woody  country 
opened  out  with  Narragansett  Bay  hinting  at  the  ocean. 
Everything  seemed  on  a  bigger  scale  than  England,  low 
though  the  landscape  was,  and  homely. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MRS.  SCHUYLER  herself  was  at  tb-  station  to 
meet  the  Raymonds  and  kissed  Mc.  cjline  with 
frank  affection. 
"So  glad  you've  come,"  she  said.  "I  tried  to 
work  the  oracle  for  your  father  and  mother,  but  the  bars 
were  up  before  I  got  your  wireless.  However,  they  can 
have  a  quiet  rubber  at  home  with  the  old  people.  You'll 
stay  over  the  week-end,  won't  you  ?" 

"Father  says  he  must  be  in  Chicago  Monday,  and  Mother 
thmks  he  can't  be  trusted  alone,  so  that  means  we  leave 
to-morrow." 

"Isn't  that  too  bad."  Theu  .n  an  audible  whisper.  "Who's 
your  friend?" 

"Pardon  me-Mr.  Fitzmorris— Mrs.  Schuyler— an  Eng- 
lish editor  who  was  our  shipmate  on  the  St.  Louis  He 
goes  to  the  dinner  and  ball  to-night— the  Dubois  are  puttine 
him  up."  *^        ^ 

"There  is  their  car,"  said  Mrs.  Schuyler,  pointing  to  a 
limousine  and  beckoning  to  the  chauffeur. 

"Au  revoir,"  e^.j  everybody. 

Newport,  from  the  little  Charles  saw  of  it  on  the  way 
to  the  Dubois,  began  by  being  an  old-fashioned  seaport  town 
full  of  sailors  and  sea-captains;  the  houses  mostly  of  wood 
with  occasional  mansart  roofs,  narrow  crowded  streets 
with  diminutive  fruit,  fish,  baker  and  nicknack  shops. 
Climbing  up  a  hilly  thoroughfare  the  car  passed  more  pre- 
tentious shops  and  then  spun  along  a  broad  avenue  flanked 
by  residences  reminding  him  of  Bournemouth.  Many  a 
hedge  was  of  English  privet,  backed  by  chestnut,  copper 
beech  and  rhododendron. 

The  car  slowed  down  and  passed  through  a  gate  into  a 
garden  radiant  with  hollyhocks,  larkspur,  cactus  dahlias, 

220 


DRUMS  AFAR 


221 


snap-dragon,  campanulas,  sveet-william  and  roses  framing 
a  lawn  as  smooth  and  trim  as  a  billiard-table.  The  house 
itself  was  of  the  type  he  knew  as  Queen  Anne,  red  bricks 
with  homely  white-silled  windows,  round  which  a  tea  rose 
climbed  in  coppery  clusters. 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  maid  who  told  the  chauffeur 
to  carry  Charles's  things  to  his  room,  then  led  him  through 
a  cool  Adams  drawing-room  dainty  with  tapering  Hepple- 
white  furniture  and  lighted  on  the  farther  side  by  tall 
French  windows  which  opened  on  to  a  larger  lawn  at  the 
back  of  the  house.  Here  in  a  rustic  summerhouse  linked 
with  the  veranda  by  a  pergola  of  Dorothy  Perkins  sat  a 
group  of  ladies,  one  of  whom  rose  to  greet  him  with  wel- 
coming hand. 

"I  did  not  hear  the  motor,"  she  apologized,  "or  I  would 
have  come  to  the  door.  How  charming  of  you  to  accept 
an  invitation  from  a  stranger.  Come  and  have  a  cup  of 
tea.  You  see  we  are  adopting  your  English  customs,  Mr. 
Fitzmorris.  These  are  some  of  my  friends — Mrs.  Hunt — 
Mrs.  Fullerton— Mrs.  Rice— Mrs.  Foster— all  going  to  the 
ball  to-night — Miss  Marsh  whom  you  will  take  into  dinner 
at  Rockwood." 

The  grace  with  which  she  made  the  introductions  set 
Charles  at  once  at  ease.  He  was  so  appreciative  of  her 
flowers  that  she  flushed  with  pleasure. 

"Let  me  show  you  some  of  my  roses,"  she  said,  rising 
and  putting  a  bud  in  his  buttonhole.  "You  must  have 
noticed  my  William  Allen  Richardson  upon  the  wall— I 
brought  it  over  myself  from  a  Devonshire  garden.  Here 
is  a  bed  of  La  France  with  a  pillar  of  Aime  Vibert— don't 
you  love  these  dense  white  clusters  ?— and  that  is  Charles 
Lefebre  with  Felicite  Perpetue— and  between  them  what  I 
call  my  strawberries  and  cream  bed,  Antoine  Rivoire  with 
its  pillar  of  Hiawatha.  I  hate  the  formal  garden  don't 
you  think  it  so  much  jollier  to  have  the  flowers  grow  up  in 
masses,  accentuated  here  and  there  with  tall  spiked  blos- 
soms or  with  pillars  ?  We  come  too  late  to  Newport  for  the 
tulips  and  the  Irises,  but  I  do  revel  in  my  roses." 


i' 


li,    .; 


?        i 


222 


DRUMS  AFAR 


So  carried  away  was  she  by  her  enthusiasm  that  by  the 
time  they  returned  to  the  summerhouse,  many  minutes  had 
sped  and  her  callers  were  on  the  point  of  leaving.  Miss 
Marsh,  a  vivacious  blonde,  was  the  only  one  to  remain,  and 
proved  to  be  herself  a  guest. 

^  "By  the  way,"  said  Mrs.  Dubois  after  the  last  good-bye, 
"your  costume  is  .eady  for  you  in  your  room.  Perhaps 
you  had  better  try  it  on.  Miss  Marsh  and  I  also  require 
some  time  to  dress.  These  aflFairs  mean  more  to  a  woman 
than  to  a  man.    You  will  excuse  us,  won't  you '" 

On  a  rush-bottomed  chair  beside  an  old-fashioned  carved 
mahogany  fourposter  Charles  found  his  costume,  wide 
trousers  and  a  loose  tunic  with  wide  sleeves  covered  by  a 
coat  of  dark  blue  richly  embroidered  with  gold.  On  the 
bedspread  lay  a  wig  with  directions  how  to  put  the  costume 
on,  and  as  this  was  a  simple  process,  he  had  leisure  to  think 
over  the  day  and  frame  the  questions  he  might  put  to  th- 
great  ladies  who  had  admitted  him  to  their  exclusive  circle 
If  they  were  like  Mrs.  Dubois,  it  was  not  going  to  be  such 
a  dreadful  ordeal. 

Miss  Marsh  and  iheir  hostess  were  both  ready  when 
Charles  ^iscended,  the  former  in  a  bright  blue  coat  em- 
broidered with  red  braid,  the  latter  in  a  dark  green  silk 
with  underskirt  of  flame-coloured  satin. 
"All  ready  for  the  Chop  Suey?"  cried  Mrs.  Dubois. 
We  re  very  punctual  to-day—fifteen  minutes  still  before 
the  car  comes  round." 

"Spend  it  telling  me  about  Mrs.  Van  Tromp,"  said 
Charles.  "I  know  something  about  Mrs.  Schomberg,  but  the 
other  lady  is  more  or  less  a  myth.  Is  she  for  .voman's 
suffrage  too?" 

"V^ery  lukewarm.  She  is  more  the  old-fashioned  type 
Only  the  other  day,  when  Mrs.  Schomberg  had  her  first 
suffrage  meeting  at  Carrara  Cottage,  Mrs.  V'  said  to  me. 
]A  woman's  first  duty  is  to  her  home,  and  hi  ocond  duty 
is  to  her  home,  and  likewise  the  third  and  jur  •  duties, 
and  several  others.' 
pep  and  ginger." 


She  always  talks  like  rha      .uU  of 


DRUMS  AFAR 


233 


"Is  she  very  rich  ?" 

"Nothing  to  sp'-r.k  of  Don't  believe  half  the  newspapers 
say.  She  mak.  s  a  cent  go  'urther  than  I  can  make  a 
dollar.  \Ve  An '  ri  tns  are  so  used  to  talking  money  that 
we  can't  imagin-  ,'>nyihing  good  unless  it  costs  a  million. 
Mrs.  Van  employs  less  capiial  than  brains.  I  don't  suppose 
her  dinner  to-night  will  amount  to  a  thousand  dollars,  but 
if  it  doesn't  get  the  front  page  in  to-morrow's  New  York 
Herald,  I'll  eat  my  hat." 

"Is  that  her  ambition  ?" 

"That  and  some  more." 

Just  then  the  car  honked,  so  with  a  few  last  looks  at  the 
mirror,  and  a  scurry  for  a  forgotten  wrap,  and  an  order  to 
the  maid  about  the  lights,  they  were  off. 

"At  the  time  yojr  wireless  came,"  said  Mrs.  Dubois  as 
they  turned  into  the  Avenue,  "Mrs.  Van  was  glad  to  get 
any  kind  of  a  man.  Anything  lazier  than  the  men  we  have 
round  here  has  yet  to  be  found  on  God's  green  earth.  It 
was  the  bore  of  getting  the  costumes  that  frightened  them. 
'Don't  be  a  crow'  she  said  to  my  husband  when  he  threat- 
ened to  back  out,  and  he  would  have  been  here  only  he  had 
a  sudden  call  this  morning  from  Wall  Street.  Your  wireless 
came  like  a  gift  from  heaven.  'Here's  a  man,  and  what's 
more  an  Englishman  and  better  still  an  editor.  Don't  let 
him  escape'  she  said  to  her  social  secretary.  'Cable  this 
minute.'  I  happened  to  be  there,  and  promised  to  take  care 
of  you.    That  is  your  secret  history." 

Considering  that  its  chatelaine  was  the  acknowledged 
leader  of  the  richest  American  society,  Rockwood  was  sin- 
gularly austere.  A  wooden  house  with  simple  pillared 
portico,  set  on  a  rocky  corner  between  two  roads,  with  a 
lawn,  a  shrubbery  and  a  few  trees,  it  might  have  been 
rented  in  England  for  £100  a  year.  Yet  the  very  simplicity 
of  the  place  appealed  to  Charles  and  the  prejudice  which 
had  led  him  to  expect  money-bag  architecture  changed  into 
desire  to  meet  a  woman  supreme  by  force  of  character. 

The  interior  was  more  startling.  They  entered  a  hall 
bizarre  with  Chinese  banners,  draped  overhead  to  form 


224 


DRUMS  AFAR 


» 


J    ! 


a  decorative  ceiling  of  black  dragons    on    their    yellow 
grounds.    The  walls  were  enriched  with  carvings  and  wkh 

fan  ^rf /?'r '"^  ^°^^-  Each  guest  was  heralded  by 
tan  standard  bearer  costumed  in  dark  blue  satin  studded 
with  bronze  nails  to  a  throne  carved  with  dragons  on  which 
sat  some  one  evidently  meant  for  an  Emperor  of  China 
tawny  m  face  with  drooping  moustache,  robed  in  the  same' 
yellow  as  the  ceiling,  embroidered  with  the  same  blaTk 
dragons,  and  wearing  a  yellow  head-dress  with  peacock 
plumes.  At  his  side,  dressed  in  a  richly  figured  coat  of 
flowers  and  butterflies  and  golden  dragons  J^h  head  dress 

.^T      \".^  ''•^'''  ^"^  ^°^^"  ^^«  J^is  consort,  impe  so 
nated.^as  Mrs.  Dubois  whispered,  by  Mrs.  Van  Tromp 

Each  guest  was  supposed  to  come  as  an  historic  Chinese 
personage,  and  Charles,  who  had  been  told  he  was  Prince 
Lung-King  of  the  Ming  Dynasty,  had  an  almostTrresS  e 

Llcutione°r'T""  '^'"^-^^-.P-^  Bah.  the  Lord  High 
^xecutioner.  However  ,e  refrained,  although  as  he  made 
obeisance  according  to  instructions,  he  was  once  morT  al- 
m(«t  upset  by  the  greeting  "Pleased  to  meet  you.  Tee  you 

as  he  In^L^fi?  T  •'*^"  ^"^  """^  resembling  Madeline,  but 
he  felt ?  fU'  ^'"'"«^-/°«,'J  ^ith  Miss  Marsh  on  his  arm. 
he  felt  a  fan  tap  his  shoulder  and  he  turned  to  find  her 

Tes I^dlade" "  °'  °^^"^^  '''  ^'''  ^  ^"^"^-^  °^  »>""- 
The    dining-room    was    aglow    with    red    lanterns    of 
camphor-wood.  set  like  sentinels  beside  each  of  a  n^  nb^ 

a  bamf  ot  ?•  ^T''  ^T^^^  '"  P^^'^  blossom"     ro^ 
a  bamboo  latticed  ceiling,  and  the  latticed  walls  were  huue 

with  panels  m  Cliinese  characters.    An  embroidered  tapesty 

covered  a  screen  beside  the  carved  door,  while  the  firepb  e 

was  concealed  with  another  embroidery'  of  whi'e  and  red 

The  scent  of  camphor-wood  filled  the  room  and  as  an 

I         u  °!  ^^"^^/!^  ^"d  applause  told  the  hostess  that  once 
more  she  had  achieved  a  triumph. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


225 


Besides  Miss  Marsh  there  were  sJ-.  others  at  Charles's 
table,  Mrs.  Dubois  and  her  partner,  an  attache  from  the 
Russian  Embassy,  Mrs.  Schuyler  and  a  naval  captain,  and 
another  lady  who  introduced  herself  as  Mrs.  Van  Tromp's 
social  secretary,  paired  with  a  cheerful  individual  who  in- 
sisted on  talking  pidgin  English.  An  insidious  cocktail 
slipped  the  leash  of  every  tongue,  and  Charles,  whose  repartee 
and  fund  of  stories  never  seemed  so  ready,  kept  his  table 
in  such  laughter  that  it  drew  tht;  eyes  of  the  whole  room. 

Served  with  his  ice,  Charles  found  a  note  from  the  social 
secretary  which  read : 

"Mrs.  Van  Tromp  will  speak  with  you  after  dinner.  I 
have  all  the  photographs  you  are  likely  to  want,  and  will 
send  them  to  you  in  the  morning." 

As  the  ball  at  Carrara  Cottage  would  not  start  till  mid- 
night, Mrs.  Van  Tromp  had  arranged  to  pass  the  time  with 
dancers  from  New  York,  bringing  the  latest  steps  from 
Paris  and  a  Chinese  dance,  which  of  course  would  bt  1  » 
rage.  In  an  interval  of  these  Charles  was  summoned  oy 
the  hostess,  a  stately  figure  with  clear-cut  face,  though  the 
crow'sfeet  round  the  pouched  and  drooping  eyes  shr  wed 
the  advance  of  age.  She  spoke  decisively  yet  pleasantly 
with  hardly  noticeable  accent. 

"Come  and  sit  beside  me,  Mr.  Fitzmorris.  So  you  are 
the  English  editor  ?  I  hear  you  are  quite  a  wit.  All  the  rest 
of  us  were  envious  of  your  table.  What  is  your  mission? 
Is  it  to  publish  a  week's  impressions  and  call  them  the 
United  States?  How  nice  to  think  that  English  writers 
are  speeding  up  to  the  American  pace." 

Charles  blushed. 

"I  know,"  he  said,  "it  is  absurd  to  rush  through  like  this, 
but  I  am  travelling  with  friends.  I  hope  I  shall  have  the 
good  fortune  to  return  here.  I  never  have  learned  so  much 
in  so  short  a  time,  nor  found  such  charming  hospitality.  In 
England,  Newport  is  much  maligned." 

"We  are  moving  with  the  times,"  she  replied,  "and  allow 
other  things  to  count  than  birth  or  money.    I  myself  believe 


226 


DRUMS  AFAR 


that  men  of  brains—thinkers,  artists  and  that  class— should 
be  admitted  to  our  best  drawing-rooms." 
Ki  "^'m    ^  «?  y°"  ,co""t  editors  in  that  class,"  said  Charles 
blandly.      I  wouldn't  have  missed  this  for  anything  " 

Mrs.  Van  Tromp  looked  at  him  sharply,  but  he  did  not 
move  a  muscle. 

"Nothing,"  she  continued,  "would  enliven  our  American 
Society  so  much  as  would  the  presence  of  brilliant  men 
and  women.  Newport  teems  with  silliness.  V/ell  are  you 
ready  to  hold  up  your  hands  in  horror  at  another  of  our 
l^our  Hundred  s  freak  entertainments  ?" 

"You  could  not  be  more  freakish  than  we  were  the  other 
day  at  the  Savoy  Midnight  Ball,  when  every  one  was  either 
Cubist  or  Futurist  or  Better-Not-Do-It-Againist." 

Ju    ^"^  ^!^^,  *°  *^'"''  ^^^^  y^"""  "^^  a*"*  spending  money. 
What  would  happen  to  the  poor  if  it  were  fashionable  for 
bociety  to  economize  ?" 
"I  see  you  are  not  a  Socialist." 

"Why  should  I  be?  Socialism  just  makes  the  poor  dis- 
contented and  read  Ibsen.  It  makes  them  dislike  us  instead 
of  thinking  us  their  friends.  It  makes  them  envy  us 
whereas  we  have  trials  just  as  hard  to  bear  as  they  have.' 
We  have  things  of  which  they  do  not  dream— impertinent 
chauffeurs,  parvenus  who  are  insanely  stupid,  and  dudes 
who  are  so  bored  they  can  hardly  speak." 

"Tragedies  indeed!"  said  Charles  dryly.    "But  it  is  also 
annoying  to  a  mother  to  see  her  baby  die  of  hunger  "    Then 
seeing  the  lady  stiffen.  "Tell  me."  he  continued  hurriedly, 
are  such  affairs  as  this  intended  to  elevate  or  to  amuse'" 
A  httle  of  both.    This  Oriental  Fete  is  not  a  mere  osten- 
tatious whim.    It  originated  in  your  English  habit  of  after- 
noon tea  which  we  Americans  have  adopted  holus  bolus. 
From  drinking  tea  we  took  to  building  teahouses.     Now 
my  neighbour.  Mrs.  Schomberg,  a  delightful  woman  and  a 
thorough  artist,  followed  the  idea  to  its  finish  and  planned 
a  typical  Chinese  Teahouse,  instead  of  a  Mission  Bungalow 
or  an  Italian  Villa.    The  Chinese  Teahouse  had  to  be  inau- 
gurated with  a  Chinese  Fete,  the  guests  to  be  appropriately 


DRUMS  AFAR 


227 


gowned.    And  so  to-night  we  are  wearing  old  brocades  and 
faded  silks,  because  we  are  logical  Americans.    Don't  you 
think  the  costumes  charming?  They  are  such  a  relief  from 
the  modem  ball-dresses.     They  do  not  suggest  or  reveal 
more  than  half  the  female  figure." 
"Then  you  have  pronounced  ideas  on  dress?" 
"My  social  secretary  will  tell  you  that  it  was  I  who 
started  the  American  movement  in  dress,  to  stop  our  women 
from  flocking  over  in  droves  to  Paris  to  buy  everything 
they  wear.    I  am  proud  to  be  an  American.    In  culture  we 
are  behind,  but  in  everything  else  we  are  ahead  of  Europe. 
The  trouble  is  that  in  our  culture  we  try  to  follow  Europe 
instead  of  going  ahead  on  natural  lines.     Because  you 
English  drawl,  we  think  you  are  insipid,  and  sc  we  affect 
insipidity  ourselves.     Americans  should  imitate  not  your 
accent  and  your  mannerisms,  but  the  breeding  and  the  cul- 
ture which  make  you  so  certain  of  yourselves.    What  we 
want  is  a  good  shaking  up." 

"Women,"  said  Charies,  "seem  better  able  than  men  to 
shake  society.  No  doubt  you  have  heard  about  our  mili- 
tants." 

"My  friend  Mrs.  Schomberg  does  not  let  me  forget  them. 
But  I  can't  follow  her.  I  have  come  out  flatfooted  for  the 
Home.  I  tell  our  girls  to  look  on  marriage  as  a  means  not 
to  secure  a  settlement  but  to  bring  up  n  family.  I  know  I 
can  do  more  by  influencing  my  husband  and  his  friends  than 
by  personal  intervention  at  the  polls,  and  so  can  every 
woman.  A  conscientious  mother  has  all  her  work  cut  out 
in  doing  her  household  duties  and  meeting  the  intellectual 
demands  of  her  children  without  haranguing  at  street  cor- 
ners. What  are  women's  rights?  The  best  right  of  every 
woman  is  an  affectionate  husband,  but  she  may  lose  that 
by  exciting  his  ridicule.  From  the  days  of  Adam  men  and 
women  have  filled  different  positions  in  life,  discharging 
different  duties.  The  twentieth  centurv  is  too  late  to  change 
our  characters.  But  I  am  neglecting  my  duties  as  a  hostess. 
we  hhall  meet  again  no  doubt  at  Mrs.  Schombcrg's  " 


•^FT^rr" 


228 


DRUMS  AFAR 


hi 
'■'J  I 


"What  do  you  think  of  her?"  asked  Miss  Marsh  when 
he  returned. 

"If  I  saw  her  in  a  play,"  was  Charles's  non-committal 
answer,  "I  would  call  her  a  caricature.  She  is  more  aristo- 
cratic than  the  aristocrats.  But  then  I  have  been  only  one 
day  in  the  United  States,  and  have  not  yet  had  time.  How- 
goes  the  enemy  ?" 

"We  shall  move  on  very  shortly  now." 

Charles  booked  two  dances,  but  kept  a  comer  of  his  eye 
on  Madeline.  That  damsel  was  evidently  in  good  company, 
and  a  pang  of  jealousy  shot  through  him  as  he  realized  that 
she  could  be  content  without  him.  At  Mrs.  Schomberg's 
Ball  he  meant  to  have  his  innings. 

It  was  half  a  mile  to  Carrara  Cottage,  but  the  motor  cars 
soon  bridged  the  distance.  The  entrance  was  through  tall 
iron  gates  past  a  lawn  and  pool  which  seemed  too  small 
in  proportion  to  the  Corinthian  pillars  of  the  portico.  The 
Van  Tromp  party,  although  it  must  have  numbered  nearly 
a  hundred,  was  evidently  but  one  section,  for  the  semi- 
circular drive  was  already  packed  with  cars  discharging 
guests. 

Here  there  was  less  attempt  than  at  Rockwood  to  give 
an  oriental  atmosphere.  The  entrance  hall  was  of  yellow 
marble,  frankly  Louis  XIV  and  of  the  purest  style.  On 
eithc;  side  hung  tapestries— one  of  the  Massacre  of  St. 
Bartholomew  and  one  of  the  Death  of  Colligny.  Louis  XIV 
also  was  the  period  of  the  room  in  which  Mrs.  Schomberg 
received  her  guests.  Petite  and  plump  in  figure,  her  hair 
of  Titian  red,  with  rather  retrousse  nose  and  dominant 
lower  jaw,  she  was  dressed  as  Charles  had  seen  pictures 
of  a  Chinese  Empress— most  noticeable  of  all  was  the  head- 
dress of  turquoise  and  pearls  and  diamonds,  the  brooches 
with  pendan:  sapphires  and  the  blaze  of  precious  stones  on 
neck  and  shoulders.  A  finely  embroidered  tunic  of  mauve 
with  sheens  of  many  other  colours  divided  into  panels 
covered  a  skirt  of  cloth  of  gold,  and  as  she  moved  one  could 
see  that  her  shoes  were  glistening  with  pearls. 

Beside  her  was  a  taller  slender  swanlike  figure,  unmis- 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I  1 


229 


takably  the  Duchess,  in  cloth  of  gold  embroidered  with 
dragons  ard  wearing  a  small  head-dress  of  black  velvet. 

With  such  an  army  of  guests  to  greet,  Mrs.  Schomterg 
was  naturally  distraite,  so  Charles  after  his  fcrmai  introduc- 
tion left  tht  lady  for  a  more  convenient  hour  and  passed 
on  to  the  ballroom  in  search  of  Madeline.    He  had  evidently 
come  ahead,  for  she  was  nowhere  visible,  but  the  blaze  of 
colour  on  the  floor  and  the  setting  of  the  room  salved  his 
impatience.     It  was  a  chamber    worthy    of    the    Grand 
Monarque— dominated  by  two  immense  bronze  torchbearers 
flanking  each  side  of  a  richly  figured  and  illuminated  man- 
telpiece.   The  gilded  bas-reliefs  of  gods  and  goddesses,  the 
Tintoretto  ceiling  might  have  been  made  for  Versailles. 
The  floor  was  already  thronged  with  figures  conscious  of 
their  novel  costume  and  interested  more  in  studying  each 
other  than  in  dancing.    There  were  brocaded  velvets,  silks 
of  orange  and  green  and  poppy-red,  satins  of  blue  and  rose 
and  flame,  cloth  of  gold  and  braid  of  silver,  head-dresses 
and  necklaces  and  ropes  of  precious  jewels.    Through  it  all 
ran  the  current  of  excitement— the   Duchess,    the    lovely 
American  Duchers,  was  there,  and  also  an  English  Duke— 
This  was  the  reddest  of  all  red-letter  nights  in  Newport. 

At  last  Madeline  came  in,  and  Charles  secured  her  pro- 
gramme. 

"How  many  may  I  have?"  he  pleaded. 

"Don't  put  the  same  initials  more  than  twice,"  she  an- 
swered graciously. 

To  his  delight  she  had  kept  it  almost  free— just  a  single 
dance  here  and  there  for  her  dinner  companions. 

"Don't  think  me  greedy,"  he  said,  after  filling  up  the 
blanks.  "We  can  sit  out  just  as  many  as  you  please  or  else 
explore.    This  place  has  possibilities." 

She  laughed  her  acquiescence  and  chatted  gaily  with  him 
till  a  partner  claimed  him.  Cha.ies  was  himself  booked 
for  Miss  Marsh,  who  shook  her  fan  reprovingly. 

"I  saw  you,"  she  exclaimed,  "but  I  won't  tell.  Is  she  as 
nice  as  she  looks?" 

"Nicer,  if  that  were  possible,"  he  answered  blushing. 


230 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i, 


Tel!  me.  —this  in  her  ear  as  they  bcfjan  to  dance— "you 
know  this  house— where  can  one  find  the  quietest  corner?" 

"It's  a  shame  to  give  away  the  secret,"  she  replied  "you 
dance  too  well  to  be  let  oflF." 

"Oh,  I  shan't  loaf,"  he  said.    "You  bet  that  111  be  busy." 

"Try  the  Gothic  room  upstairs,"  she  said.  "N'othinp 
there  later  than  Columbus.  Just  the  romantic  place  for 
you  and  her.  The  crowd  will  ricochet  between  the  supper 
tables  and  the  Teahouse." 

After  he  had  danced  with  Madeline  twice  and  once  with 
Miss  Marsh,  Charles  remembered  he  had  to  interview  his 
hostess.  That  lady  was  obviously  glad  to  escape  for  a 
moment  the  ebb  and  flow  of  guests. 

"Walk  over  to  the  Teahouse."  she  commanded  in  harsh 
but  compelling  voice.  "I  can  show  you  best  in  that  wav 
what  I  aimed  at.  If  I  had  been  a  man  and  had  to  choose 
a  profession,  I  would  have  been  an  architect— it  is  so  prac- 
tical a  form  of  art  and  I  love  doing  things.  How  do  vou 
like  this  house  ?" 

"So  far  as  I  have  seen  it.  it  is  admirable— so  scholarly. 
It  might  have  been  designed  by  Mansart." 

Her  face  coloured  with  pleasure. 

"WTiat  a  relief,"  she  said,  "to  meet  an  educated  nan.    I 
made  no  mistake  when  I  sent  you  that  invitation,  though 
honestly  I  sent  it  chiefly  because  I  admired  your  nerve  in 
facing  me  after  the  fun  you  poked  at  me  in  London.    Still 
I  bear  no  grudge  for  that.    I  wish  the  architect  were  alive 
to  hear  you.    The  average  Americar  just  thinks  of  this  as 
a  marble  caprice,  a  million  dollar  cottage,  whereas  it  reallv 
is.  as  you  suggest,  a  scholar's  dream.     So  too  with  my 
Chinese  Teahouse— so  far  from  being  an  e.xtravagance  it  is 
a  perfect  thought  perfectly  expressed.    Of  course  this  ball 
IS  mere  advertisement— that  is  part  of  the  game.    I  speak 
to  you  frankly— you  are  in  the  game  yourself.     But  if  I 
could  show  you  the  drawings,  the  plans,  the  detail,  the 
research  which  have  gone  into  this  pavilion,  vou  would 
understand  that  it  is  more  than  a  mere  freak." 
They  stepped  on  to  a  marble  terrace  massed  in  flowers 


DRUMS  AFAR 


*:$» 


il 


overlooking  a  long  green  sward  towards  the  sea.  The  tre^s 
were  starred  with  myriad  lanterns,  and  a  hrijjhf  hn^  of 
lamps  led  to  the  Teahouse.  This  w;is  it-.*-.!f  outlinf/I  with 
coloured  lights,  and  beacons  at  the  head  of  their  tall 
standards  challenged  the  sea  and  sky. 

Over  the  lawn  the  guests  who  did  not  for  the  moment 
dance  strolled  carrying  staffs  with  lighted  lantf.Tm.  (,hzrlf:-. 
and  his  hostess  paused  for  a  while  to  admire  the  T'liry  ^rerle. 
then  followed  the  lane  of  lights  and  crossed  a  stream  hy 
a  high  Chinese  bridge  connecting  the  gardens  with  the  rex.Ic 
on  which  was  perched  the  Teahouse.  On  nearer  view,  the 
vivid  colour  became  more  evident — the  red  lacquer  p/iilar^ 
and  the  green  tiled  roof  behind  and  above  the  hanging 
lanterns  of  the  massive  Torii  or  ga..eway,  the  blue  tiles  of 
the  balustrade,  the  great  blue  jars  at  the  head  of  the  '.tone 
steps — these,  with  the  carved  friezes  and  the  dragon  =>,  the 
overhanging  eaves  and  the  great  sweep  of  outcurving  Tr/-ji, 
gave  an  exotic  charm  to  this  Atlantic  promontory.  From 
the  balcony  they  saw  a  surf  beating  on  dark  mysterious 
rocks,  and  a  long  winding  cliff. 

Inside  the  door,  the  lacquered  pilasters  painted  with  Chi- 
nese characters,  the  teakwood  decorated  panek,  the  rirh 
rugs  and  lovely  '  ises,  the  fragrance  of  strange  wr/r>d.s,  the 
latticed  light  of  ngured  lanterns,  the  perfect  finish  of  fine 
craftsmanship — all  showed  an  artistry  wh;ch  made  the  more 
garish  liev'.oration  of  the  Rockwood  dinner  somewhat  taw- 
dry by  comparison. 

"We  opened  this  three  weeks  ago  to  advertise  the  S^jftrage 
movement,"'  she  explained.  "Newport,  you  know,  is 
thought  by  most  .Americans  to  give  the  cachet  to  anything 
on  trial,  and  though  some  neighbours  say  I  have  taken  up 
this  movement  to  advertise  myself  they  are  glad  enough  to 
get  my  invitations." 

"You;  women  in  America,"  said  Charles,  'seem  just  as. 
aggressive  and  as  capable  as  men." 


;ur  men  are  fools  not  to  realise  what  we  can  do. 


-fur 


President  thinks  less  of  a  hundred  thousand  mothers  man 
he  docs  of  one  walking  delegate.     But  the  world  to-day 


232 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 


i  I 


»i  f 


needs  all  the  human  energy  and  brains  it  can  employ.    Debar 

LceTa/'cod'hV"""  •"*"'  ^'"  '^^^^  '^-^^  J"-^^  ^«'f  t'- 
nnHoi  ^Z"^"  ^'  ^  '"^''"«  ^"'-  ^""-^'er  progress 

and  advancement.     I  wish  we  had  a  war  where  in  the 
absence  of  the  men  we  women  could  show  what  we  couM 

we  co^d  drM'""  '^'  '""^'  ^^  ^°"'d  '^^  the  business 
we  could  drive  the  streetcars,  operate  the  railroads  and  fil 
a  m.lhon  jobs  .n  factories  that  men  do  now  because  the 

car^fth'em     U     ''Tf''''^'  '''  *^^'^  members  alo!; 
can  fill  them.    If  you  had  a  war  on  your  hands  in  England 

you  would  not  waste  your  time  in  torturing  womtn  of 

or  Dr.  Lome  Garrett  Anderson.    You  would  be  glad  to  have 
hem  organise  your  womrn's  labour,  and  help  To  run  your 

Sr^eZg.-^"''  ^"  '''-  °"  ^°   ^-^  -PP^y.  - 
She  spoke  with  astonishing  energy.     Was  this  the  dc- 

^^ir^  ilfeX"  ^^*  '^.'^'  '^'^  '^^''    ''  oni;  the  men 
•  u.l         r""^"'  '^  "^^^  ^"""e^y  otherwise.    Abnormal 

I'^^^a"'  T^'"^^''  J"^*  ^'  *^«  ^^^Jt^'  it  represented  wa 
beyond  due  hmits.    But  this  was  still  the  first,  or  at  mos 

the  second  generation  of  supremacy,  and  the  Vigour  whS 
had  brought  the  leaders  to  the  top  was  vigour  stUl 

1  •  ^^J'^*'??  ^t!""  '*^P'  ^^^^  to  the  house,  but  before 
leavmg  h.m  Mrs.  Schomberg  led  him  to  the  curving  stair- 
'''T^•'^l*l^"'"'i'■"^"  of  bronze,  to  the  landing. 

1  tiere.    she  said,  pointing  to  a  bas-relief,  "is  the  Mansart 
w^hom  you  spoke  about,  and  there  is  a  marWe  bust  o 
Louis  Xr\ .     The  lantern  hanging  from  the  ceiling  is  a 
rephca  of  one  at  Versailles,  and  the  whole  edincrfxcept 

eD^ch  JJ:  "T°""  T  '"^P''-^*'^"  to  that  most  'spSl 
lZ\.f  ^""^l ''  •^t'^^*^P°^h  of  Madame  de  Maintenon. 
Euro^.''  ''  """'^  "'  ^°"''  ^^^  ^''"^^'f  h^'^  «W  ove; 

Jr^S;."^'  '^"^"'™'  ^^^^^^  ^°-^  ^^<^^'-  wait- 
"Don't  think  me  a  wallflower,"  she  snapped 
For  answer  Charles  slipped  his  arm  around  her  waist  and 


n 


DRUMS  AFAR 


333 


I 
I 


swung  out  to  the  dance.  Under  the  spell  of  rhythm  and 
music,  her  irritation  vanished  and  the  clo<»c  cla-p  thrilled  her 
again  with  irresistible  emotion. 

"Why  can't  this  last  for  ever?"  she  said  an  the  mu^ir 
ceast  ..    "W'e  seem  to  have  l>een  hx>rn  fo  danrc  tojjetbcr." 

Just  then  the  lij,'hts  went  out,  Icavinj*  the  r'>f}m  in  'udden 
darkness.  Whether  she  was  frightened  or  merely  an  r/f/pr>r- 
tunist,  she  clung  to  him. 

"It's  only  a  joke,"  said  some  one,  and  broke  the  <»f>ell. 
"Let's  dance  outside  on  the  terrace." 

The  orchestra  was  summoned  from  the  stairca^  to  the 
white  piazza,  and  under  the  stars  the  ball  went  rm,  gAytT 
than  ever. 

Across  a  supper  table  under  an  awning  lit  up  by  Chinese 
lanterns  Charles  placated  Madeline  with  the  reavjn  for  his 
absence,  and  then  persuaded  her  to  come  and  see  the  Tea- 
house. 

"This  is  the  first  chance  we  have  ever  been  able  to  walk 
arm  in  arm,''  he  whispered,  "and  to  be  for  any  time  alone. 
When  are  you  going  to  let  me  speak  to  your  father?  It  is 
maddening  to  see  you  with  other  people  and  to  talk  forma! 
conversation  when  I  want  to  put  my  arms  '■ound  you  and 
kiss  you  and  make  you  feel  that  we  are  meant  for  ourselves 
alone." 

"Let  me  go  easy,"  she  answered-  "Father  will  be  all 
ri.^ht  if  I  get  him  in  a  good  mood.  He  has  taken  a  fancy 
to  you,  but  we  must  break  him  in  gently.  Of  course  if  it 
comes  to  a  scrap,  he'll  have  to  knuckle  under.  But  he's  a 
dear  old  boy,  and  I'd  like  to  have  him  with  us."' 

"And  your  mother  ?" 

"She  cuts  no  ice  in  this.  She  knows  I  shall  marry  whom 
I  choose.  I've  told  her  so  before  when  she  wanted  me  to 
fa:!  for  an  Italian  flapdoodle.  CTiarles,  dear,  leave  it  to  me. 
Wait  till  we  get  to  Chicago." 

They  were  under  the  trees  now. 

"Let's  look  behind  this  shrubbery,"  he  said  "We  may 
find  a  seat  there  and  have  a  quiet  talk." 


r 


234 


DRUMS  AFAR 


There  was  no  seat,  and  except  by  standing  close  against 
a  bush  they  could  be  noticed  from  the  path 

'•Quick!"  he  said.  "There's  no  one  visible-let  me  have 
juai  onc» 

She  offered  him  her  hand. 
"No,  on  the  cheek." 
"That  sounds  like  'Hands  Up.' " 
"Better  than  'Thumbs  Down.' " 
"Wait  till  we  get  to  Chicago." 
"Now  or  never." 

"I  wish,"  she  said,  "I  had  a  complexion  like  your  English 
girls.    It  takes  me  all  my  time  to  raise  a  blush  " 

A«H    i  "i^^^^'P  ^''"•"  ^^  '^*^'  ^"^'"g  h'^  face  to  hers. 
And  she  did  not  resist. 


ri 


"rsi^ik-.^ 


inst 
ave 


ish 
rs. 


CHAF'TER   XX J V 

THE    train    for    Boston  left  no  hme  for  Railey''! 
Beach,  but  Madeline  had  not  brought  her  Merry 
Widow  hat  to  Newport  for  nothing,  and  as  -^he 
swept  into  the  Casino  on  the  arm  of  Mrs  Schuyler 
an  inquisitive  ripple  stirred  the  equanimity  of  that  blate 
assemblage.    Charles's  eyes  were  glued  to  his  divinitv    ^, 

Ti '"  ^^^^  '^^'''  ^^^"^  discovered  herself  in  monolo^e 
This  must  be  your  first  affair."  she  murmured  in  his 
ear.      I  never  saw  any  one  so  badly  hit.     Do  present  me 
I  want  to  find  out  what  an  American  girl  should  be  or  do 
to  catch  an  Englishman." 
Charles  blushed. 

"Thanks  for  the  warning."  he  said.  "I  must  be  more 
guarded 

"Xo,  don't,"  she  urged.  "It's  so  rare  to  find  something 
genuine  m  our  artificial  world.  Lo  and  behold !  In  amongst 
our  diamonds  and  dollars  has  strayed  a  human  heart." 

Lharle^  turned  to  his  companion  with  new  interest.  She 
was  good-Iookmg  and  well-dressed,  but  this  suggested  some- 
-21S  more. 

^^^EHK  uso  noticed  the  lady's  attractions  and  Charles's 
■^^  S  le  therefore  lost  no  further  time  in  memorizing 
^sEaa-  An  introduction  quickly  followed,  and  Miss 
^rs  ^<  skilfulh-  but  firmly  steered  away  from  the  man 
^"sofm  _l,afi.  -Tie  h^d  chosen. 
^^^  s  :ms  Miss  Marsh  .="'  she  asked,  surely  somewhat 

3S0W  £uesi,"  he  answered,  '^at  Mrs.  Dubois'." 
^    -or    gcshing  for  me."  was  her    disturbing    co?sa«nt. 

-ar:  jcaJous!"  was  the  thought  that  flashed  upon  him. 

^^^eeterth  he  was  in  high  good  hmnour. 

23s 


\T3m^ssm^-:y^^^ 


236 


DRUMS  AFAR 


1   t 


i 


"She's  jealous!"  he  kept  chuckling  to  himself.  "That 
means,  she  really  cares  for  me." 

On  the  train  to  Boston,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  get  a 
word  in  with  Madeline,  as  Mrs.  Raymond  was  a  perfect 
machine-gun  of  questions  on  the  subject  of  the  dinner  and 
ball,  each  demanding  an  answer,  with  the  object  of  satiating 
her  apparently  unquenchable  curiosity  about  these  historic 
happenings.  So,  too,  when  they  transferred  to  the  Chicago 
train,  so  that  if  Charles  expected  another  tete-a-tete  this 
day  with  Madeline  he  was  disappointed. 

Next  morning  he  completed  his  initiation  into  American 
long-distance  travel — the  democratic  absence  of  privacy  in 
the  Pullman,  and  the  entertaining  "common  room"  of  the 
observation  car.  While  he  was  struggling  there  with  the 
half -ton  or  so  of  paper  known  as  a  Sunday  Edition,  he  was 
rejoined  by  Mr.  Raymond,  looking  graver  than  ever. 

"Seen  the  news  from  Europe  ?"  asked  the  latter.  "Looks 
as  if  Serbia  had  called  the  bluff.  What  do  you  think  now  ?" 
"To  tell  the  truth,"  answered  Charles,  "I  haven't  suc- 
ceeded in  disentangling  the  news  yet  from  this  debauch  of 
colour  and  advertisements.  Ah,  here  it  is!  Give  me  ten 
minutes." 

The  cables  were  truly  sensational.  Serbia's  reply  was 
declared  by  Austria  to  be  "unsatisfactory."  Diplomatic 
negotiations  were  broken  off.  Both  armies  were  mobilizing. 
King  Peter  and  his  court  had  evacuated  Belgrade. 

"Berlin  is  at  the  back  of  it  all,"  commented  Charles, 
pointing  to  a  cable  from  that  city.  "This  is  not  Austrian 
diplomacy.  These  cables  show  that  Berlin  takes  more 
interest  in  the  matter  than  Vienna.  Look  how  the  Germans 
arc  being  worked  up  in  organized  crowds  and  parades, 
insulting  the  Russian  and  French  embassies.  Read  between 
the  lines  of  this  message — The  enthusiasm  could  scaicely 
be  greater  if  it  were  Germany's  own  war  which  was  about 
to  begin.'  I  only  hope  to  God  that  England  is  ready." 
"How  England?  What  has  England  to  do  with  this?" 
"What  had  England  to  do  at  first  with  Napoleon,  or  with 
Louis  XIV?    Yet  it  was  Wellington  who  in  the  end  de- 


DRUMS  AFAR 


2Z7 


stroyed  the  power  of  Bonaparte  and  Marlborough  who 
smashed  the  Bourbons.  She  is  the  bulwark  against  the 
continental  tyrant,  and  if  the  Kaiser  means  to  be  another 
Charlemagne  he  must  fight  England  first." 

"But  surely  England  can't  get  into  the  scrap  without  a 
reason  ?" 

"Don't  worry  about  the  reason,"  said  Charles.  "Leave 
that  to  the  Foreign  Office." 

"Thank  heaven  this  is  America!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Ray- 
mond. "It  beats  me  how  you  cold-blooded  Europeans  can 
talk  of  war.  I  was  only  a  boy  in  our  own  North  and  South, 
but  the  little  1  saw  then  was  enough.     Never  again !" 

The  appearance  of  Madeline  put  an  end  to  such  dis- 
cussion, and  Charles  spent  the  rest  of  the  journey  in  a 
subdued  ferment  of  love-sickness.  Mr.  Raymond  immersed 
himself  in  reports  and  letters  which  had  met  him  at  BuflFalo, 
while  Mrs.  Raymond  snoozed  peacefully  over  the  Literary 
Digest,  so  that  the  two  young  folk  could  exchange  confi- 
dences without  interruption  except  for  meals. 

It  was  an  opportunity  such  as  had  seldom  occurred  be- 
fore, and  as  Charles  talked  he  began  to  realize  how  little 
he  knew  of  the  girl  with  whom  he  had  fallen  in  love.  She, 
it  is  true,  knew  a  good  deal  about  him,  for  Mrs.  Raymond 
with  those  leading  questions  in  which  so  many  elderly 
American  women  are  expert  had  discovered  what  his  father 
was,  how  old  his  mother  was,  how  many  sisters  he  had, 
how  many  aunts,  uncles,  cousins  and  second  cousins,  what 
Church  he  belonged  to,  whether  he  believed  in  palmistry  and 
table  rapping,  what  he  took  for  headaches,  how  many  ill- 
nesses he  had  nearly  died  of  when  a  child— she  was  a  pei  i'ect 
encyclopedia  on  illnesses  and  described  with  embarrassing 
detail  the  symptoms  she  had  herself  experienced— all  in  the 
hearing  of  Madeline  who  was,  however,  less  communicative 
on  such  domestic  intimacies. 

It  was  from  Mrs.  Raymond  that  Charles  also  learned 
most  of  what  he  did  know  about  the  Raymond  family.  Mr. 
Raymond  apparently  had  "got  in  bad"  with  his  own  people 
for  marrying  a  Protestant— he  being  of  French-Canadian 


238 


DRUMS  AFAR 


forbears  and  naturally  brought  up  in  the  Catholic  Church— 
but  he  had  long  ago  given  up  going  to  mass  or  confession, 
and  had  frankly  no  interest  in  religion.  The  priests  had 
tried  to  get  him  to  send  Madeline  to  complete  her  education 
at  least  in  a  convent,  and  it  was  really  half  to  escape  their 
importunities  that  mother  and  daugb^^r  had  gone  to  and 
stayed  so  long  in  Europe.  Madeline  like  herself  belonged 
to  the  Protestant  Episcopalian  Church,  and  Episcopalian 
she  would  remain.  There  was  only  one  congregation  that 
really  counted  in  Chicago,  and  that  was  St.  James's,  and  the 
Bishop  was  a  lovely  man.  He  preached  such  dandy  ser- 
mons, telling  them  how  religion  had  got  into  a  rut  and  how 
he  thought  they  came  to  Church  to  get  away  from  hell,  not 
because  they  wanted  to  go  to  heaven,  wasn't  it  cute? 

As  he  sat  watching  Madeline,  Charles  realized  that  here 
in  her  own  country  she  harmonized,  whereas  in  Europe  she 
had  suggested  the  bizarre.  It  was  characteristic  of  her  race 
to  be  aggressive,  but  her  accent  was  less  strident  than  that 
of  her  neighbours  on  the  car.  In  a  country  where  costume 
seemed  so  much  to  the  women,  she  was  by  no  means  over- 
dressed ;  was  domesticated  too— was  knitting  all  the  time. 

"No  more  hotels  and  boarding  houses  for  mine,"  she 
startled  him  by  saying.  "Three  years  of  foreign  food  is 
enough.  When  we  get  to  Lake  Geneva,  and  you  taste  the 
bread  I  bake,  and  the  pies,  you'll  know  what  it  is  to  have 
me  for  a  friend." 

At  Toledo  Mr.  Raymond  brought  them  the  Chicago 
Sunday  Herald. 

"Same  old  Chicago !"  he  remarked.  "Thirty-two  divorce 
cases— anti-vice  campaign— bathers  in  Lake  drowned  by 
undertow— city  imperilled  by  strike— suffrage  leaders  fight- 
ing for  the  limelight " 

"What  are  they  doing  now?"  asked  Madeline. 

"Helping  the  Cause  by  throwing  their  superfluous  wed- 
ding presents  into  the  melting  pot." 

After  which  he  beat  a  politic  retreat. 

As  dusk  grew  on  and  the  gleam  of  Lake  Michigan  re- 


ih 


DRUMS  AFAR 


239 


minded  them  that  Chicago  was  at  hand,  they  arranged  to 
lunch  together  at  least  once  before  the  end  of  the  week. 

"Make  it  at  the  Tip  Top  Inn,"  she  said,  "in  the  red  room 
to  the  right.  The  Dickens  pictures  will  remind  u^  bftth  of 
England,  and  yet  it  is  true  American.  We  can  do  3  matinee 
as  well.  You  may  write  to  me  if  you  like,  hut  not  more 
than  one  letter  a  day.  I  want  you  to  spend  your  time  in 
seeing  Chicago.  What  you  have  to  say  can  keep  till  we 
meet  again. ' 

And  so  at  last  the  journey  had  ended. 

"Well,  isn't  this  a  sight  for  sore  eyes !"  said  Kelly,  claf>- 
ping  Charles  on  the  shoulder  as  he  ?<tep\>t(i  off  the  Pullman. 
"So  you  have  come  all  the  way  to  little  old  Chicago.  My, 
how  glad  the  folks  are !  Mother  has  been  as  busy  as  a  hen 
with  one  chicken  getting  ready  for  you.  Why,  Henry !" — 
this  to  Mr.  Raymond — "how  do  you  do?  What's  the  best 
word'  Have  you  met  Fitz?  You  travelled  on  the  same 
boat?  What  do  you  know  about  that!  Mrs,  Raymond, 
pleased  to  meet  you — and  Miss  Raymond — all  on  the  same 
boat?  Fitz,  old  man,  you  always  fell  on  your  feet.  Tell 
me,  Miss  Raymond,  is  Fitz  still  shy  with  the  girls  ?" 

So  laughing  and  chaffing,  Kelly  welcomed  his  friend,  and 
Charles  already  felt  at  home. 

With  an  au  revoir  to  the  Raymonds,  the>-  passed  out  of 
the  station. 

"Holy  Mackerel !"  said  Kelly  as  he  steered  his  car  through 
streets  noisy  with  the  rattle  and  slang  of  the  streets.  "Isnt 
that  girl  a  peach!  Where  did  you  pick  her  up?  Henry 
f<aymond  says  she  cost  him  a  mint  of  mone\-,  but  if  she 
is  as  good  a  singer  as  she  is  a  looker  she  11  pay  dividends." 

"So  you  know  Mr.  Raymond?" 

"You  bet  I  do.  He's  a  lovely  gentleman.  We  both  belong 
to  the  Chicago  Athletic.  He  told  me  he  was  going  to 
Europe  to  collect  his  family,  and  by  jinks  he  did  it  just  in 
time!  Some  of  those  here  with  families  on  the  other  side 
are  getting  jumpy — this  news  don't  look  too  good,  and 
traveller's  cheques  won't  buy  peanuts  if  there's  a  European 
war" 


240 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 


They  were  in  Michigan  Avenue  now,  one  of  a  swift  pro- 
cession of  motor  cars  which  sped  up  or  down  that  resplend- 
ent highway.  A  cool  breeze  from  the  Lake  swept  away 
the  headache  which  had  accumulated  in  the  long  journey 

"By  Jove,"  said  Charles,  "there's  a  bigness  and  openness 
about  this  place  that  you  don't  feel  in  New  York  There 
you  are  stifled  by  the  sky-scrapers.  Here  you  still  have 
room  to  breathe,  and  these  tall  buildings  lift  you  up  " 

"You've  hit  it,"  said  Kelly.  "This  is  America.  New 
York  is  just  New  York." 

The  succession  of  parks  and  garden  cities  which  the  night 
was  not  yet  too  dark  to  conceal  came  as  a  further  revelation 
How  different  to  what  I  expected."  said  Charles.  "It's 
true  that  I  saw  those  drawings  of  Jules  Guerin  at  Burling- 
ton House  but  I  never  realized  they  had  anything  to  do  with 
the  real  Chicago.  I  son^ehow  thought  of  this  place  more 
as  the  city  of  The  Jungle.'  slaughter-houses  and  foreign 
quarters  and  factories." 

"We  both  slaughter  and  manufacture  everything  except 
First  Families,"  replied  Kelly.    "Now  you  are  in  Evanston 
—this  street  with  the  double  row  of  elms  is  Forest  Avenue 
and  there  at  the  gate  is  Viola." 

Under  the  clustered  lights,  she  looked  more  than  ever 
charming— dressed  in  white,  without  a  hat,  holding  out  boih 
hands  to  welcome  hiin. 

"Yes,  you  may  kiss  him,"  said  Mike  cheerily.  "Fitz  is 
perfectly  safe.    He  has  tied  up  with  another  girl  " 

"We  never  kissed!"  Charles  and  Viola  both  exclaimed  in 
the  same  breath,  and  then,  with  old-fashioned  superstition 
linked  their  little  fingers  and  wished  a  wish. 

Charles  wished  that  he  might  always  have  such  a  welcome 
wherever  he  went,  and  Viola  wished  that  she  might  always 
be  as  happy  as  she  was  then. 
Mrs.  Kelly  stood  watching  them  from  the  open  door. 
Don  t  forget  the  old  lady,"  she  called,  and  brought  her 
gentle  welcome  down  the  steps. 
"I  never  knew  before  I  was  so  popular,"  said  Charles 


DRUMS  AFAR 


241- 


laughingly,  as  he  sunk  into  a  chair  on  the  wide  veranda. 
"It's  going  to  be  hard  to  get  away  from  here." 

"Going  away!"  exclaimed  Viola.  "Don't  let's  even  say 
the  word.  Tell  me  all  about  London,  and  all  about  Bedford 
Park— all  at  once— now  everybody  be  quiet  and  listen." 

Charles's  conscience  smote  him  that  he  had  seen  so  little 
of  the  elder  Mainwarings,  but  he  was  able  to  tell  her  about 
Frank's  success  and  of  his  meeting  with  her  parents  at 
Madeline's  concert. 

"We  saw  the  account  of  that  in  the  News,"  said  Mrs. 
Kelly.  "Is  that  the  Madeline  Raymond  whose  father  lives 
dowi   the  road?" 

"Ves,"  said  Mike,  "she  came  back  to-day— by  the  same 
steamer  as  Fitz,  and  by  the  same  train  as  Fitz— she's  the 
one  and  only  girl,  now  isn't  she,  Fitz  ?" 

If  beetroots  have  pride,  any  beetroot  would  have  been 
proud  to  be  as  red  as  Charles  grew  then  at  Mike's  happy 
shot. 

"May  we  congratulate?"  asked  Viola. 

"Not  yet,"  admitted  Charles,  laughing  in  spite  of  him- 
self.   "Her  parents  haven't  been  told." 

"That  is  not  always  necessary,"  remarked  Mike. 

"Often  quite  unnecessary,"  added  Mrs.  Kelly  significantly, 
as  if  her  opinion  was  that  parents  saw  more  of  the  game 
than  any  one  imagined. 

After  that  they  sat  up  till  midnight,  talking  over  old 
times,  with  Viola  rushing  of!  at  intervals  to  see  her  baby, 
till  at  last  Kelly  said: 

"Time  to  hit  the  hay." 

"Not  till  he  has  seen  my  darling,"  said  Viola,  and  tiptoed 
him  into  the  holy  of  holies  where  lay  the  new  little  Mike. 

Next  morning  Charles  was  wakened  by  the  sunlight,  and 
looked  out  of  his  window  into  a  garden  ablaze  with  red  and 
yellow  blossoms. 

IJViola's  hand  is  in  this,"  he  thought. 
^^  "Some  garden  too,"  said  Kelly,  giving  her  due  credit, 
"there  is  no  other  like  it  that  we  know  of  in  Chicago.    Most 
of  the  States  in  the  Union  have  each  a  flower  as  emblem,  and 


242 


DRUMS  AFAR 


li  ! 


Viola  has  planted  a  State  Flower  Garden  where  each  should 
have  a  place,  to  show  she  means  to  be  a  good  American." 

"AH  our  blue  flowers  are  over  now,"  she  explained.  "I 
wish  you  could  have  been  here  in  May  to  see  our  violets 
and  cc'  .ine  and  lupins  and  pasque  flowers.  Now  we  are 
in  the  month  of  scarlet  and  gold— look  at  Ohio's  carnations, 
and  New  York's  roses  and  the  wild  rose  of  Iowa,  and  that 
blaze  of  Indian  Paintbrush  for  Wyoming,  and  that  splash 
of  red  clover  and  then  those  flaming  golden  poppies  for 
California.    What  a  palette  to  paint  with !" 

"The  first  summer  after  we  were  married  we  spent  in 
travel,"  said  her  husband.  "We  got  the  actual  soil  from 
many  of  the  States,  as  well  as  the  plants." 
^  "It  is  the  cactuses  that  give  the  most  trouble,"  said  Viola, 
"but  with  the  help  of  our  greenhouse  in  winter  we  can  do 
wonders.  I  have  grown  so  fond  of  this  garden  that  I  hate 
to  leave  it,  however  hot  the  summer." 

When  Qiarles  told  them  he  would  have  to  leave  them  at 
the  end  of  the  week,  there  was  an  outcry,  but,  on  the  further 
confession  that  he  was  going  to  be  near  Madeline  Raymond, 
they  relented. 

"So  long  as  you  can  give  me  three  days  to  show  you  that 
Oiicago  is  half  civilized,  I  will  let  you  off,"  said  Kelly. 
"Then  when  you  come  back  from  Lake  Geneva,  give  us 
what  Miss  Raymond  leaves  of  you.  This  is  as  good  as  a 
trip  to  England  for  Viola.    She  just  loves  to  hear  you  talk.' 

"Indeed  she  does,"  said  Mrs.  Kelly.  "So,  Mike,  honey, 
run  down  to  the  office,  and  leave  Charles  to  her  till  lunch 
time,  when  you  can  have  him  again  till  supper." 

"That's  so,"  said  Mike.  Then,  "Fitz,  old  man,  do  vou 
still  play  golf?" 

"Haven't  played  a  round  since  I  went  down  from  Oxford. 
Are  you  still  keen?" 

"Crazy  as  a  bed-bug.  Tell  you  what— we'll  have  a  game 
this  afternoon.  Never  mind  if  you  haven't  brought  your 
sticks.  I'll  give  you  a  set  of  misfit  clubs  so  tliai  I  can  beat 
you  good  and  win  some  money  off  you.  Mother,  dear, 
send  Charles  down  to  Rector's  in  a  taxi  about  noon.    I'll 


DRUMS  AFAR 


243 


drive  him  out  in  my  own  car  after  lunch  to  Flossmoor  and 
show  him  an  honest-to-goodness  course.  The  weather's 
just  right  and  we  must  give  him  a  good  time  while  the 
going's  good.  Don't  hold  supper  for  us.  We'll  have  a 
bite  at  the  University  Club  and  join  you  before  bedtime," 

After  the  baby  had  submitted  to  its  morning  worship 
and  set  out  with  its  coloured  Mammy  for  an  airing,  Charles 
was  once  more  put  through  his  paces. 

"I'm  perfectly  happy,"  said  Viola,  anticipating  his  ques- 
tion, "but  I  do  so  love  to  hear  about  dear  old  London.  I 
never  knew  before  how  fond  I  was  of  the  place— yet  I  do 
like  Chicago,  don't  I,  Mother?"  she  added,  turning  to  Mrs. 
Kelly. 

"You  certainly  do,"  said  the  old  lady,  "and  Chicago  likes 
you.  Charles,"  she  said,  "you  should  see  how  homey  Viola 
is  now.  She  goes  fanning  about  the  house  in  her  check- 
apron,  and  all  the  afternoon  she  has  comers  and  goers.  And 
now  that  little  Mike  is  here,  I  think  she  has  taken  root." 

"Check-apron?  What  sort  of  a  garment  is  that?  It 
doesn't  sound  like  Viola's  style." 

Both  ladies  laughed  immoderately. 

"A  little  old-fashioned,"  admitted  Viola,  "but  old-fash- 
ioned things  are  what  I  like  now." 

"But  what  is  it  like?"  persisted  Charles.  "Let  me  see 
you  in  it  so  that  I  can  tell  the  news  in  Gath." 

"Get  Mike  to  take  you  to  Daddy  Long  Legs,"  said  Mrs. 
Kelly.  "It  is  playing  just  now  at  Powers  Theatre.  Ruth 
Chatterton  wears  a  check-apron  in  the  first  act.  and  if  you 
don't  love  her  in  that  just  as  much  as  in  the  fine  dresses 
she  wears  later  I  shall  be  surprised. " 

"And  what  about  Art  ?"  continued  Charles. 

"Mike  is  so  good  to  me."  said  \'iola,  "and  has  built  me  a 
lovely  studio.  Just  now  I  am  designing  a  nursery  for  little 
\Iike  to  grow  up  in— fairy  tales  for  the  walls,  and  every 
piece  of  furniture  a  toy.  Just  let  me  show  you  some  of 
the  designs.  They  aren't  all  worked  out  yet— baby  has  been 
here  only  a  little  while." 

It  was  a  light  and  airy  room,  in  which  surely  any  child 


244 


DRUMS  AFAR 


would  grow  up  healthy.  A  pine  tree  threw  its  cool  shade 
upon  them  as  they  stepped  out  on  to  the  balcony  overlooking 
the  garden. 

"I  asked  Mike,"  she  said,  "to  come  out  here  because 
Evanston  reminds  me  of  Bedford  Park — of  course  it  is  on 
a  bigger  scale — there  are  twenty-five  miles  of  garden  city 
like  this  along  the  North  Shore— but  the  trees  and  the 
gardens  to  each  house  remind  me  of  home,  and  at  first 
when  one  ex  nes  out  here  that  means  so  much.  If  only 
there  weren't  so  many  motorcars ! — they  keep  one  awake  at 
nights." 

Then  a  sound  of  wheels  on  the  gravel,  and  "There's 
Baby !"— and  she  was  running  downstairs  to  kiss  and  fondle 
her  darling. 

It  was  not  till  well  on  towards  noon  and  he  was  waiting 
for  the  taxi  that  Charles  took  up  the  newspaper.  A  refer- 
ence to  a  slump  on  the  London  Stock  Exchange  made  him 
turn  to  the  financial  columns,  where  he  read  there  had  been 
the  worst  fall  in  prices  in  a  generation,  as  a  result  of  the 
Austro-German  crisis.  The  face  of  his  father  rose  before 
his  eyes,  and  a  flood  of  sympathy  welled  up  in  his  heart. 

"Poor  old  Dad !"  he  said  to  himself.    "More  trouble !" 

The  cables  to  bankers  in  New  York  were  more  optimistic 
—one  saying  "General  war  improbable— distinctly  an 
Austro-Servian  fight."  The  source  of  the  cable,  however, 
was  Frankfort,  and  Charles  knew  enough  by  this  time  about 
financial  news  to  be  suspicious.  Yet  he  was  relieved  to  see 
that  as  much  prominence  was  given  to  the  Irish  riots  where 
the  Scottish  Borderers  had  fired  into  a  Dublin  street  mob 
as  to  the  Servian  aflFair. 

As  he  drove  down  Forest  Avenue  towards  the  city,  he 
looked  up  at  the  windows  of  the  Raymonds'  house  but  there 
was  no  sign  of  Madeline. 

Mike  Kelly  was  waiting  for  him  at  the  entrance  to  the 
restaurant  and  hugged  his  arm  affectionately  as  they  stepped 
downstairs. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  Viola,  old  man.  Isn't  she 
a  wonder?    Only  two  years  over  here,  but  able  to  stand 


DRUMS  AFAR 


245 


up  to  any  old-timer.  I  don't  usually  throw  bouquets,  but 
you  certainly  are  some  matchmaker.  I  tell  you,  I  thought 
at  first  I  was  taking  a  long  chance  in  bringing  her  over  here, 
but  she  has  made  good.  Mother  used  to  be  the  main  squeeze 
in  the  Kelly  outfit,  but  she's  got  to  hand  it  over  to  Viola. 
Let's  sit  over  in  the  comer.  There's  a  whole  raft  of  things 
I  want  to  talk  about.  How's  the  appetite?  We're  liable 
to  get  some  real  food  here.  Hullo,  Harry — "  this  to  the 
restaurant  manager — "Meet  my  friend  Charles  Fitzmorris 
of  Christ  Church,  Oxford — first  visit  to  Chicago — a  good 
scout  and  in  a  pretty  damned  hurry.  Thought  I'd  like  to 
show  him  a  regular  joint." 

From  the  greetings  and  handwavings,  Charles  could  see 
that  Kelly  had  a  host  of  friends  among  the  men  who 
thronged  the  place — ^business  men  from  the  looks  of  them, 
with  an  air  of  self-confidence  and  push  which  no  weather 
could  slacken.  It  was  eighty  degrees  in  the  shade  outside, 
and  none  too  cool  here  below. 

Kelly  fired  a  broadside  of  questions  about  Madeline  Ray- 
mond which  left  no  escape.  Before  they  had  ended  their 
race  through  lunch  he  had  the  whole  story. 

"There's  only  one  finish,"  he  said  as  he  lit  his  cigar.  "If 
you  mean  to  hold  the  girl,  you  got  to  stay  here.  Old  man 
Raymond  clears  thirty  thousand  per  ann,  and  that's  the 
kind  of  home  she's  used  to.  It's  up  to  you  to  do  the  same. 
You  can't  earn  that  in  England  in  a  hundred  years,  but  in 
Chicago  a"  fellow  with  your  brains  can  soon  get  a  move  on. 
Your  father  is  right.    England  is  played  out." 

"The  Englishman  is  not,"  snapped  Charles. 

"There's  the  spirit !"  replied  Kelly  heartily.  "Shake  hands 
on  that." 

Their  route  to  Flossmoor  took  them  through  drab  areas 
of  factories  and  streets  which  made  the  later  open  country 
all  the  more  agreeable.  As  they  drove,  Charles  realized 
how  powerful  was  the  car.  Twenty  miles  rose  to  thirty 
with  hardly  perceptible  impulse,  and  in  the  stretches  beyond 
the  outskirts  they  purred  along  at  forty-five.     It  was  all 


246 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 


typical  of  the  American  himself,  whose  quiet  determined 
face  was  the  incarnation  of  energy  and  power. 

Flossmoor  welcomed  them  to  a  beautiful  rolling  land- 
scape of  fields  and  trees.  The  club-house  had  recently  been 
burned  down,  but  an  old  farm-house  had  quickly  been 
adapted  to  the  easy  comfort  which  its  members  evidently 
looked  for.    The  greens  were  in  perfect  order. 

"Reminds  me  of  Tyre  and  Sidon!"  said  Charles  when 
he  was  offered  a  "soft  drink"  at  a  hut  about  half-way  round. 
"By  the  eighteenth  hole  I  shall  be  a  confirmed  sybarite." 

Two  other  men  had  been  drawn  by  Kelly  into  a  fourball 
foursome,  and  Charies  became  acquainted  with  the  great 
game  of  Josh  to  which  the  American  subordinates  golf 
proper— a  perpetual  flow  of  insidious  badinage  aimed  to 
upset  an  opponent's  nerve.    Charles  played  an  erratic  game, 
but  Kelly  was  by  this  time  scratch,  and  between  them  they 
won  the  last  hole. 
Charles,  they  said,  was  down  a  dollar. 
"Hand  it  over,  Fitz,"  said  Kelly.    "I'm  willing  to  give 
you  bed  and  board,  put  you  up  at  the  club,  stand  your 
drinks,  pay  your  car-fare,  and  lend  you  a  million  dollars, 
but  I  draw  the  line  at  clearing  your  gambling  debts.    Hand 
it  over." 

On  their  way  back  to  town,  Kelly  slowed  down  at  a  large 
open  square  and  turned  off  to  the  left  into  a  group  of  grey 
Gothic  buildings. 

"This  is  Chicago  University,"  he  said.    "We'll  see  if  we 
can't  find  something  to  remind  us  of  the  old  days  at  Oxford. 
Can  you  notice  anything  familiar  in  that  tower?" 
"Magdalen,  by  all  that's  holy!" 

The  atmosphere  and  trees  and  landscape  which  made  tho 
real  Magdalen  so  exquisite  were  lacking,  but  a  new  sym- 
pathy with  this  western  city  entered  Charies  as  he  recog- 
nized the  lines  of  the  building  itself.  The  spirit  which  could 
pay  such  homage  to  an  older  University  surely  deserved 
acknowledgment,  and  as  they  came  to  a  halt  in  front  of 
the  tower  unconsciously  he  raised  his  hat. 


DRUMS  AFAR  247 

The  Hall  to  which  Kelly  now  conducted  him  was  a  still 
greater  surprise. 

"Christ  Church!"  he  exclaimed  as  he  stepped   inside, 

"but "  and  then  a  smile  lit  up  his  face  as  he  saw  the 

difference.  The  wainscoting  was  studded  with  coat-hangers, 
the  stately  atmosphere  of  Wolsey's  banqueting  chamber  was 
cheapened  to  a  cafetaria. 

The  card  of  prices  on  each  table  was  truly  democratic. 
The  napkins  were  paper  and  probably  used  occasionally  as 
missiles  evidently,  for  a  conspicuous  warning  read :  "More 
than  two  Napkins  Per  Person  will  be  Charged  For." 

Tomato  Soup 5c 

Lamb  Stew 7c 

Hash  7c 

Com  5c 

and  so  on. 

And  then  waitresses,  instead  of  sleek  fat  scouts. 

"Wish  we  could  have  lived  as  cheap  at  Oxford,"  said 
Charles.  "And  whose  is  that  portrait  in  the  place  where 
above  the  high-table  we  used  to  see  old  Henry  the  Eighth  ?" 

"That  guy  lounging  in  the  chair  with  the  sick  stomach 
effect?  That's  John  D.  Rockefeller— our  patron  saint. 
This  is  the  University  of  Standard  Oil — the  other  out  at 
Evanston  is  the  University  of  Wheat.  Oxford  was  built 
out  of  the  confiscation  of  the  monasteries.  Our  Universi- 
ties were  endowed  by  robbing  the  people.  Times  have 
changed,  but  human  nature  remains  the  same." 

"What  do  they  teach  here  ?"  asked  Charles. 

"Everything  except  the  Oxford  drawl,"  replied  Kelly, 
"and  that  no  doubt  will  come  when  it  is  found  to  pay.  We 
have  set  out  to  beat  Columbia — our  rival  in  New  York — and 
we'll  do  it,  even  if  we  have  to  have  a  Chair  of  Acting  for 
the  Movies." 

If  Charles  had  reason  to  express  astonishment  at  what 
he  saw  in  Chicago  University,  how  much  more  cause  to 
open  his  eyes  at  the  splendour  of  the  University  Qub.  As 
they  entered  the  building,  he  was  delighted  to  find  in  the 


r 


248 


DRUMS  AFAR 


hall  a  set  of  William  Nicholson's  prints  of  Oxford,  dear  to 
his  heart— the  most  perfect  things  of  their  kind.  Then 
up  a  swift  elevator  to  a  dining-room  resembling  the  interior 
of  a  Cathedral  with  its  tall  Gothic  stained  glass  windows. 

"My  dear  Mike,"  he  said,  "this  deserves  a  place  in  our 
school  geographies.  Niagara  is  nothing  to  the  intellectual 
stream  that  must  pour  through  Chicago  to  justify  such  a 
temple.  Tell  me,  are  all  these  other  fellows  at  these  other 
tables  real  graduates?" 

"Sure  thing.  We  have  two  hundred  thousand  of  the 
breed  in  the  United  States  and  Chicago  has  its  fair  share. 
The  University  you  saw  an  hour  ago  has  seven  thousand 
students  registered  this  year,  and  in  addition  we  have  the 
Northwestern  and  the  University  of  Illinois.  I  tell  you, 
this  is  some  State." 

"Kelly,  old  man,"  said  Charles,  "let  me  get  my  breath. 
Consmei-  me  converted,  and  teach  me  to  discard  blind  tra- 
dition, hidebound  prejudice,   hereditary  sloth,   insularity, 
back-numberism  and  effete  old-worldliness." 
"O  shucks!"  said  Kelly.    "What  will  you  have  to  eat?" 
Then  at  the  house  after  supper  two  eager  hours  of  talk. 
"My  dearest  Madeline,"  Charles  wrote  that  night  tearing 
up  a  dozen  sheets,  for  this  his  first  love-letter.    "If  I  tried 
to  put  down  on  paper  all  the  thoughts,  impressions,  emotions 
of  to-day,  I  could  write  on  till  sunrise — so  different  is  every- 
thing from  what  I  had  dreamed.     Life  here  seems  to  be 
lived  at  such  high  speed  with  such  concentrated  impulse, 
that  when  at  last  I  came  into  this  quiet  room  it  was  as  if  I 
had  stepped  out  of  a  whirlwind.    Kelly  whom  I  used  to 
take  only  half  seriously  now  looms  up  a  human  dynamo; 
Viola,  the  rather  casual  woman  of  artistic  temperament,  is 
keyed  out  of  all  recognition.    Life  swirls  at  such  high  pres- 
sure that  although  I  have  been  all  day  little  else  than  a 
bystander,  my  brain  is  fagged  and  my  nerves  on  edge. 

"I  have  to  make  a  confession.  Kelly  knows  all  about 
our  little  affair.  We  were  intimate  at  Oxford,  and  he  soon 
had  it  out  of  me.  He  says  I  must  go  into  business  here — 
that  I  should  have  a  chance  even  though  I  am  an  English- 


DRUMS  AFAR 


249 


man.  If  I  only  had  half  his  energy  and  optimism,  I  should 
have  more  faith  in  what  he  says.  The  greatest  difficulty  is 
to  find  an  opening.  This  world  is  so  different  from  Eng- 
land—your newspapers  are  written  in  a  different  language, 
your  mentality  is  poles  apart  from  ours.  But  Kelly  simply 
can't  see  obstacles — he  has  our  future  fixed. 

"All  day  long,  in  spite  of  this  surfeit  of  wonderful  im- 
pressions, your  face  had  been  before  me.  I  kept  on  think- 
ing 'Madeline  belongs  to  this  world,  was  brought  up  in  this 
rich,  impetuous  life.  How  can  I  ever  oridge  the  difference 
between  England  and  Chicago,  so  that  our  two  lives  can 
harmonize.  Madeline  in  Europe  was  always  an  American. 
Can  I  in  Chicago  be  anything  else  but  an  Oxford  man  ?' 

"Every  time  I  saw  an  'electric'  driven  by  a  lady,  I  hoped 
against  hope  it  was  you, — but  no  such  luck.  I  suppose  you 
were  at  home  unpacking,  ringing  up  old  friends,  gathering 
up  the  lost  threads  of  the  last  three  years. 

"On  Wednesday  we  are  to  meet  again — just  a  day  and 
a  half  from  now.  At  this  pace  I  shall  be  an  old  man,  but 
you,  dear  heart,  will  always  be  young, 

"I'll  send  this  to  you  to-morrow  morning  by  the  maid. 
These  kisses  on  this  page  are  surely  warm  enough  to  last 
till  then.  And  through  the  window  I  am  blowing  others,  on 
the  chance  that  one  at  least  may  find  your  lips. 

"Evng  dein 

"Charles." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  telephone  rang  as  they  sat  down  to  breakfast 
next  morning.  It  was  a  welcome  call  from  Mr. 
Raymond  asking  Charles  and  Mike  to  lunch  with 
him  at  the  Yacht  Club. 

"If  it's  a  day  like  yesterday,  we're  in  luck,"  said  Mike  to 
Charles.    "Yacht  Qub's  the  cool  spot  in  Chicago." 

Viola  claimed  Charles  for  the  morning  on  the  ground 
that  he  had  been  stolen  from  her  the  afternoon  before,  and  a 
pleasant  chatty  morning  it  began  to  be.  When  Viola  was 
occupied  with  the  claims  of  little  Mike,  Mrs.  Kelly  took  up 
the  running.  She  had  more  or  less  retired  from  active 
work  in  the  firm,  she  said,  feeling  that  now  she  was  a 
grandmother  she  had  earned  the  leisure  desired  for  writing 
and  political  propaganda. 

Just  about  eleven  o'clock,  the  telephone  rang  again.  This 
time  it  was  from  Mike  himself,  now  at  his  office. 

"Hello,  Fitz !  I've  ordered  a  taxi  for  you  right  away ! 
Call  for  me  here,  and  we'll  go  on  to  the  Board  of  Trade. 
There's  something  doing  to-day,  I  tell  you— beats  anything 
ever  since  Joe  Uiter's  deal,  time  of  the  Spanish-American 
war.  They  say  Austria  1. 1«  declared  war,  and  wheat  has 
shot  up  ten  cents.  All  kinds  of  rumours  from  Wall  Street. 
Berlin  is  unloading  stocks  to  beat  the  band.  Tell  you  more 
when  I  see  you.    Don't  be  long." 

Berlin  unloading?  Once  again,  Charles  was  carried  in 
thought  across  the  sea,  and  saw  himself  in  his  father's  study 
at  Richmond,  talking  things  over  before  the  final  decision 
to  cross  the  Atlantic.  He  could  hear  the  voice  still,  "I'd 
have  a  chance  then  to  know  why  Herlin  has  been  unloading 
so  heavily." 

Almost  before  he  had  time  to  explain,  the  taxi  was  at 
the  door.    Bidding  a  hasty  good-bye,  he  jumped  in  and  had 

350 


DRUMS  AFAR 


251 


passed  the  Raymonds'  house  before  even  he  remembered 
to  look  out  of  the  window.  All  the  way  down  town,  his 
brain  swirled  with  questions — had  he  been  right  to  leave 
England?  did  his  father  expect  this  trouble  and  wish  to 
get  him  out  of  the  way?  would  all  Europe  be  involved? — 
what  would  England  do? 

Kelly  was  all  excitement. 

"Just  your  luck !"  he  said.  "The  wheat  pit  is  staged  for 
you.  I  happened  to  pass  La  Salle  Street  and  it's  some  sight, 
I  tell  you.  Ever  hear  of  Joe  Leiter's  deal  ?  Armour  had  to 
dynamite  the  ice  in  the  Straits  of  Mackinac  to  get  the  wheat 
through  before  he  could  break  the  price."  Then,  as  the 
rush  of  traffic  slowed  them  down,  "Guess  we'd  better  walk. 
It's  only  a  few  Slocks  now  to  the  Board  of  Trade." 

For  some  di  nee  from  the  gloomy  and  top-heavy  palace 
in  which  wheat  was  kin?,  the  street  was  thronged  with 
curious  crowds,  while  at  the  entrance  itself  a  dense  mass 
of  onlookers  stood  lined  up  watching  messengers  and  clerks 
and  traders  pouring  in  and  out.  Many  of  those  who 
made  their  exit  wiped  the  perspiration  from  their  brows, 
as  if  the  heat,  whether  physical  or  mental,  was  oppressive. 
Even  in  the  street  one  could  hear  the  roar  inside. 

"We'll  have  to  go  in  by  the  back,"  said  Mike.  "Follow 
me  and  watch  your  watch." 

Gradually  they  edged  their  way  round  and  into  the  rear 
of  the  building,  where,  fortunately,  Mike  met  a  friendly 
broker  who  gave  them  the  floor  and  a  card  to  the  gallery. 

"The  bulls  are  trying  for  dollar  wheat,"  said  the  broker. 
"Margins  raised  to  twenty  per  cent — nothing  less.  Trading 
should  reach  a  hundred  million  bushels.  Bill  Jones  cleared 
t-venty-five  thousand  dollars  in  five  minutes." 

The  Exchange  itself  was  a  large  dingy  hall  in  which  the 
Stars  and  Stripes,  draped  upon  a  wall,  gave  the  chief  note 
of  colour.  The  hubbub  of  the  traders,  and  the  telegraphic 
drumfire  killed  all  conversation,  and  through  the  turmoil  of 
the  floor  tliey  had  almost  to  fight  their  way  to  the  visitors' 
staircase. 

"What  do  you  think  of  this?"  shouted  Mike  to  Charles. 


252 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"Reminds  me  of  Oxford   football   and  the   Freshers' 
Squash,"  was  the  reply. 

At  last  they  were  up,  and  peering  over  the  heads  of 
earlier  spectators  at  the  tumult  beneaih. 

From  this  point,  it  suggested  a  cauldron  or  live  volcano 
crater,  m  which  the  molten  surface  boiled  up  there  and 
there  over  unseen  fires.  Most  tempestuous  of  all  was  round 
the  wheat-pit,  a  seething  mass  of  faces  and  shirt-sleeves 
and  hands  which  threatened  and  gesticulated  and  signalled 
across  the  floor  through  the  murky  air.  The  official  re- 
porter had  a  hard  time  keeping  track  of  such  breakneck 
transactions.  A  steady  roar,  sometimes  sufficiently  subdued 
to  let  them  hear  the  rattle  of  the  telegraphs,  suddenly  would 
swell  into  heavy  vocal  artillery,  faint  echo  of  the  still  greater 
clash  in  Europe. 

^  "If  this  results  from  rumours  of  war,"  said  Charles 
what  will  happen  when  the  real  thing  comes?" 
"Hell !"  said  a  man,  turning  round  at  the  remark.  "This 
IS  the  real  thing.  They've  got  the  dope.  It's  war  now. 
sure  thing.  Formal  declaration  made  by  Vienna.  The 
shorts  are  being  hit  good  and  hard." 

A  sudden  howl  from  the  pit  drowned  anything  more  he 
might  have  said.  By  some  mysterious  means  of  communi- 
cation tJie  new  disturbing  rumour  reached  the  gallery. 

"British  battleship  squadron  ordered  to  mobilize,"  was 
passed  from  lip  to  lip. 

The  heat  became  so  stifling  Uiat  Mike  and  Charles  were 
glad  to  escape  into  the  street. 

"Holy  Moses!"  said  Mike,  mopping  his  face.  "This  is 
real  history,  not  the  kind  you  read  in  books.  Fitz  old 
man,  aren't  you  glad  you  came?  I  guess  the  lights  will 
bum  here  all  night  long." 

"I  wonder,"  answered  Charles,  "what  is  happening  on 
Change  in  London.  You  know  my  Governor  is  a  broker- 
up  to  the  neck  in  it  too.    I  think  I'll  send  a  cable     He 
has  had  tough  luck  lately,  and  I  want  to  know  that  he's 
all  right." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


253 


"Good  idea,"  agreed  Mike.  "He  may  send  a  useful  tip. 
We'll  do  it  right  now." 

They  made  their  way  to  a  cable  office  where  Qiarles 
composed  his  message. 

"How  will  this  do?"  he  said  to  Mike. 


"War  reported  here  Trust  you  are  all  right  Shall  I 
come  hornet 

"Charles." 

"Shall  you  come  home?"  said  Mike,  his  face  clouding. 
"What  do  you  mean?  You  have  just  arrived.  What  has 
War  to  do  with  you  ?  This  is  between  Austria  and  Servia. 
Even  if  England  is  dragged  in,  you  are  well  out  of  it." 

"That's  not  the  point,"  said  Charles.  "H  the  Governor's 
firm  igoes  broke,  he'll  have  to  economize.  This  trip  costs 
money." 

"Cut  out  that  line  of  talk.  You  are  my  guest.  This  trip 
fro-:i  now  on  need  not  cost  you  one  red  cent  except  for 
the  candies  you  buy  for  your  best  girl.  You  don't  throw 
money  away  upon  a  return  passage  if  I  can  help  it.  You 
stay  right  here  and  go  into  business  where  the  money  is. 
Cut  out  that  last  sentence  and  save  a  dollar." 

Charles  reflected.  After  all  the  question  was  premature. 
\n  a  few  days  things  might  be  more  developed. 

He  therefore  followed  Mike's  advice. 

A  clock  struck  one  and  reminded  them  of  Mr.  Raymond. 
They  were  still  both  flushed  when  they  reached  the  Yacht 
Club,  so  that  the  wind  which  fanned  their  cheeks  on  the 
veranda  facing  the  lake  came  with  refreshing  coolness. 
There  over  the  usual  cocktail  they  watched  the  fleet  of 
pleasure-craft  swaying  in  a  harbour  which  on  that  some- 
what breezy  day,  showed  evidence  of  seas  outside. 

"Are  you  much  of  a  yachtsman?"  asked  Charles  of  his 
host. 

"Mike  and  I."  replied  Mr.  Raymond,  "belong  to  the 
rocking-chair  fleet.  All  that  I  can  qualify  on  is  a  dinky 
little  motor-boat  on  Lake  Geneva  and  the  cheers  I  gave  at 


254 


DRUMS  AFAR 


1 


Henley  Regatta  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  Chicago' 
Just  come  from  the  wheat-pit,  have  you  ?  Some  pit  to-d^y 
I  guess  you  weren't  far  off,  Mr.  Fitzmorris.  when  you  fig- 
ured that  this  was  Germany's  affair  "  ^6 
During  luncheor  Mr.  Raymond  proposed  his  plans. 
Charles  and  such  of  the  Kellys  as  wished  to  come  were 

'Z^tl      lu^l"*^'''  °."  ^"^^y  "^^^*  ^'  R^^i«»a  Park. 
On  Saturday,  the  Raymonds  would  move  on  to  the  Moraine 

and  on  Sunday  afternoon  would  motor  from  there  to  Lake 
ueneva. 

Charles  was  invited  to  joJn  them  on  Saturday  at  the 

"?'"f^  .^J"'!  ^^'^'^^  ^  ^  ^^"*^«  that  evening. 
Couldnt  be  fc-^tter,"  said  Mike.    "If  Viola  weren't  tied 
to  the  house  just  now,  we  should  have  fixed  just  some 
such  programme  ourselves." 
th2!**"**V^'*  Chicago  men  get  together,  it  is  difficult  for 

toT-t^n  Mi,''''"!i*°.,^"t""''  ^"^'  "  ^^'•'«*  ^as  content 
to  h»ten  Mike  and  Mr.  Raymond  -evelled  in  dollars  and 
cents.  The  latter  was  much  concerned  at  the  outlook  for 
paper.  Most  of  his  time  since  his  return  had  been  spent 
on  this  problem.  *^ 

"Just  closed  up  my  new  contracts,"  he  said,  "so  that 
I  m  safe  now  for  five  years,  and  mighty  glad  to  get  them 

rrfenTvin^'  "'  '^-  "'  *  *^'  *-"'•  *'' 
After  the  demitasse  Mr.  Raymond  turned  to  Charles. 
Now  I  want  to  introduce  you  to  my  old  friend  Tom 
Mosher  I  wish  ve  had  had  time  to  run  over  from  Boston 
and  visit  with  him  in  Portland,  but  since  we  couldn't,  we'll 
get  acquainted  with  him  at  Marshall  Field's^-been  to  Field's 

On  Charles's  negative.  Mr.  Raymond  commenced  the  lyri- 
cal rapture  to  which  Chicago  folk  are  subject  when  de- 
scribing their  many-storied  heaven  in  Stote  Street.  Tom 
Mosher,  it  appeared  in  the  course  of  their  walk  to  the  heaven 
m  question,  was  a  printer  of  fine  books,  and  at  Field's 
there  was  a  book  department  with  a  Mosher  counter.  Here 
Charles  came  under  the  spell  of  this  tribute  of  a  New  World 


DRUMS  AFAR 


255 


publisher  to  Old  World  literature,  books  printed  and  spaced 
in  type  and  on  paper  that  rejoice  the  heart  of  the  scholar — 
fit  robes  for  the  immortals.  To  pick  one  up  was  to  sigh — 
how  difficult  it  was  to  choose — why  not  buy  them  all  ? 

"We'll  come  back  here  again,"  said  Mike,  "some  day  when 
we've  a  month  to  spare.  In  the  meanwhile  take  this  from 
me." 

"This"  was  Matthew  Arnold's  Thyrsis  and  The  Scholar 
Gypsy. 

Charles  opened  it  and  read  the  familiar  lines. 

"And  near  me  on  the  grass  lies  Glanvil's  book 

Come  let  me  read  the  oft-read  tale  again, 
The  story  of  that  Oxford  scholar  poor 

Of  pregnant  parts  and  quite  inventive  brain, 
Who,  tired  of  knocking  at  Preferment's  door 

One  summer  mom  forsook 
His  friends,  and  went  to  learn  the  Gypsy-lore, 

And  roam'd  the  world  with  that  wild  brotherhood, 
And  came,  as  most  men  deem'd,  to  little  good. 

But  came  to  Oxford  and  his  friends  no  more." 

As  he  read,  he  seemed  to  see  again  the  grey  quadrangle 
of  Tom  Quad,  nine  o'clock  on  a  midsummer  eve,  and  he 
was  counting  as  in  the  old  days  the  hundred  and  one  deep 
notes  of  the  curfew — he  was  standing  on  the  turf  not  far 
from  Mercury,  most  famous  fountain.  Along  the  terrace 
past  the  Deanery  towards  Peckwater,  a  figure  in  master's 
gown  was  hurrying — in  his  ear  the  voice  of  Hargrove,  quiet, 
English  and  cultured,  talked  of  Oxford  and  her  mediaeval 
beauty— Oxford — Oxford— Oxford 

"All  aboard!"  like  the  clang  of  an  American  locomotive 
came  the  voice  of  Kelly,  startling  him  out  of  his  brown 
study.  "Henry  Raymond  has  a  date  at  three  o'clock  and 
has  just  ten  minutes  to  make  it." 

"All  right,  old  man,  I'm  ready,"  Charles  answered  with 
a  laugh. 


2S6  DRUMS  AFAR 

,  "to  learn  the  Gypsy-lbrc 

And  roam  the  world  with  that  wild  brotherhood." 

The  rest  of  the  afternoon  was  spent  in  snapping  uo  the 
Srnr^eS''"  "'"'  ^""'  '"  ''■*^*'^^^^  sucSssfon  Cn 

Then  before  going  home  to  dinner,  a  Turkish  bath  anH 
a  plunge  at  the  Chicago  Athletic.  ^ 

The  answering  cable  came  late  that  evening. 

"Situation  has  not  put  me  off  my  game. ^Father.'' 

"That's  good  enough  for  us,"  said  Kelly,  laughing   "We'll 
have  a  game  ourselves  to-morrow"  *"«"»"»•     Well 

fix^d  to  miV  mT-''  "^^^  "^l^y  °"  ^^'<*  Charles  had 
fixed  to  meet  Madelme  at  lunch,  and  it  required  some  little 
diplomacy  to  throw  Kelly  oflF  the  scent.  DiplomaT^Tn^d 
proved  vam,  and  Charles  in  the  end  had  to  declare  fSnWy 
*^?,^«>"  ;^y  he  could  not  meet  his  host  at  mid^y 
^^^Why  didn  t  you  say  so  before,  you  son  of  a  gun,"  said 

They  arranged  to  leave  the  house  together  a«  if  fnr  , 
day  at  golf,  and  Charles  spent  the  morS^  in  ie  A^  In  ti! 
tutc.  sizing  up  the  quality  of  Chicago's  taste  In  It^res 
until  the  longed-for  hour  approached^  He  had  wS  o 
her  agam,  a  letter  full  of  anticipation  of  the  joy  of  mSin^ 
her  agam  Foolishly  he  had  not  asked  hir^to  wrUe  to 
h.m.  so  that  he  had  no  absolute  certainty  she  would  b^ 
here.  Surely  she  would  not  fail  him.  The  place  of  mee^ 
mg  was  her  own  choice. 

Before  entering  the  Art  Institute,  he  had  insoected  the 
restaurant  and  arranged  with  a  sympathetic  ^nUeman  of 
colour  to  reserve  a  table  in  the  corner  nearlhe  wTndow 

iSof  if  °"  ^'.^^  "^"^  ^°  ^^  said  g:nrma„'s' 
discretion.  It  was  certainly  an  attractive  place,  with  half- 
timbered  effect  of  dark-stained  oak  and  pla  ter    grc^l 

lacTuer.  '  '"^  '""^'  '^°"*  ^'^'^^"^  ''^™^'  '"  "^ 


DRUMS  AFAR 


257 


Also  he  had  secured  tickets  for  Daddy  Long  Legs  so 
that  they  could  see  the  check  apron  that  Viola  now  af- 
fected. 

As  the  hour  drew  nigh,  his  heart  beat  faster,  and  he 
wandered  up  and  down  Michigan  Avenue,  looking  into  the 
shop-windows  but  seeing  nothing  of  their  enchantment,  un- 
less it  were  the  reflection  he  looked  for  to  see  if  his  tie 
were  on  straight.  At  last  the  hour  struck,  and  with  a 
final  glance  up  and  down  the  street  to  see  if  she  were  coming 
he  made  for  the  elevator. 

Two  minutes  after,  Madeline  herself  appeared,  in  foamy 
white,  all  the  whiter  for  her  coal-black  hair,  with  a  round 
sailor  hat,  and  lace  ruche  round  her  neck  d  la  Sarah  Bern- 
hardt. She  gave  his  fingers  an  answering  pressure  as  they 
shook  hands,  and  smiled  into  his  eyes  as  she  vmbuttoned 
her  gloves  at  him  across  the  table. 

''Did  you  get  my  letters?"  he  asked. 

"You  bet  I  did.  I  am  frightfully  excited.  I  could  have 
kissed  your  friend  Mike  Kelly  when  I  read  how  he  told 
you  to  get  into  business  here.  I  suppose  you  have  been  too 
busy  seeing  Chicago  to  look  around  yet  for  a  job.  Father 
said  you  were  going  yesterday  to  see  the  fun  at  the  Board 
of  Trade.  You  do  have  all  the  luck  I  There  was  I,  tied 
to  the  house  with  mother,  spring-cleaning  in  August,  not 
even  able  to  go  out  and  bathe— have  you  been  down  to  any 
of  the  beaches  yet?  Well,  I  guess  not,  the  lake  has  been 
pretty  rough." 

"Spring-cleaning  doesn't  seem  to  have  hurt  you,"  said 
Charles.  "You  are  just  the  loveliest,  daintiest  creature  in 
the  world " 

"That'll  keep  till  we  get  to  Lake  Geneva.  Aren't  you 
glad  you're  coming.  You  and  I  are  going  to  have  the  time 
of  our  lives.  Once  you  get  there,  you'll  never  want  to 
quit." 

"It  must  be  lovely,"  said  Charles,  "but  what  about  the 
work  ihat  Kelly  recommended  ?" 

"We'll  see  what  father  says,"  she  answered,  more  serious- 
ly now.    "Do  you  know,  I  am  strong  for  his  opinion.    I 


258 


DRUMS  AFAR 


know  he  thinks  you  a  likely  young  fellow,  and  he's  such  a 
good  mixer  himself  he  knows  everything  worth  while,  so 
he  can  surely  get  you  a  toe-hold.  Charles,  do  stay  here.  I'm 
fed  up  with  Europe,  and  Chicago's  home  to  me." 

"Curiously  enough,"  admitted  Charles,  "my  father  told 
me  to  stay  over  here  if  I  saw  a  good  opening.  Poor  old 
Dad,  he's  a  good  sport.  Here's  a  cable  I  got  from  him  last 
night." 

"He  certainly  is,"  she  said,  smiling  as  she  read  the  mes- 
sage. "I  wish  father  took  things  as  coolly.  He  dropped 
quite  a  bit  on  Steel  this  last  month,  but  was  wise  enough 
to  get  out  on  Monday  before  yesterday's  slump.  Would 
you  believe  it — three  and  a  half  points  down  in  a  day,  and 
Reading  dropped  six  and  three-quarters!" 

It  surprised  Charles  to  hear  her  talk  about  the  market. 
How  different  from  his  own  sisters,  who  took  no  interest 
in  their  father's  business  except  as  a  sourse  of  income. 

"Let's  talk  of  something  more  cheerful,"  he  remarked. 
"Yourself,  for  instance." 

"Me — what  is  there  to  tell?  Except  this — do  you  know 
that  concert  in  London  has  just  panned  out  beautifully. 
I've  got  the  hallmark  all  right,  and  I'm  booked  to  sing 
here  at  the  Thomas  Concerts  this  winter.  Oh,  it  has  been 
the  dream  of  my  life  to  get  an  engagement  like  that.  As 
father  prophesied,  all  my  friends  in  Chicago  will  sit  up  and 
take  notice." 

From  what  he  gathered,  a  Chicago  girl  would  just  as  soon 
sing  in  a  Thomas  Concert  as  in  the  Heavenly  Choir.  This, 
she  maintained,  was  the  most  musical  city  in  America.  It 
had  so  many  Germans — ^half  a  million  of  them — and  so 
many  Slavs — most  of  whom  were  born  musical — that  the 
audiences  were  good.  They  loved  music  and  did  not  go 
to  concerts  jecause  they  were  fashionable.  New  York 
might  be  more  of  an  actor's  city,  but  Chicago  was  first  in 
music,  and  first  of  all  in  Chicago  were  the  Thomas  Con- 


certs. 


"And  what  if 
asked  Charles.    ' 


the  Germans  and  the  Slavs  go  to  war?" 
'There  won't  be  so  much  harmony." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


259 


"Over  here,  they  are  all  Americans,"  she  answered.  "They 
left  their  taxes  and  their  property  behind  in  Europe,  but 
they  brought  their  music  with  them.  Music  may  be  more 
developed  in  certain  races,  but  it  has  no  nationality.  Let 
Europe  fight  its  own  battles.  But  don't  let  us  quarrel  over 
politics." 

"Right  you  are.  Let's  go  to  the  theatre — it's  just  about 
time." 

Sentimental  plays  had  always  a  fatal  effect  upon  Charles 
and,  with  his  emotions  all  wrought  up  by  the  delight  of 
being  with  Madeline,  he  found  himself  more  than  once  that 
afternoon  in  the  theatre  unable  to  keep  the  tears  from 
rolling  down  his  cheeks.  Madeline  bore  him  company,  and 
as  she  had  forgotten  her  own  handkerchief  their  sympa- 
thies were  mingled  on  the  same  square  piece  of  dampen- 
ing linen. 

"We  are  a  pair  of  kids,"  she  declared  as  they  composed 
themselves  after  the  play  over  a  cup  of  tea.  "I  blame  it 
on  Ruth  Giatterton.    The  book  itself  just  made  me  laugh." 

"I  wonder  I"  said  Charles,  and  told  her  of  his  experience 
with  his  father  at  The  Blue  Bird.  "Don't  you  think  there 
is  something  elemental  in  most  of  us  which  no  veneer  of 
civilization  or  artificial  living  can  ever  deaden?  A  great 
actor  can  take  us  out  of  our  shells,  and  bring  us  back  to 
our  primitive  natures.  I  believe  after  all  it's  a  good  thing 
to  know  you  have  a  heart,  that  you  are  a  man,  not  merely 
a  tailor's  dummy." 

"Don't  you  worry  about  that,"  she  answered.  "You  are 
quite  human  enough  for  me." 

She  had  promised  to  be  home  for  supper,  and  Kelly 
was  to  pick  up  Charles  at  the  Chicago  Athletic,  so  their 
rendezvous  had  to  end,  but  not  till  they  had  come  to  feel 
nearer  in  spirit  to  each  other  than  ever  before. 

Kelly  breezed  in  upon  him  just  a  few  minutes  after  he 
had  arrived  at  the  Club. 

"Got  an  idea,"  he  exclaimed.  "You  11  need  some  training 
for  that  dance  at  the  Moraine,  and  we  got  to  post  you 
on  Chicago  styles.    I'm  going  to  take  you  to  the  College 


36o 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Inn  to-night  to  dinner — it's  a  regular  sharpshooter's  joint. 
I'll  phone  to  mother  to  join  us.  Viola  of  course  can't  leave 
the  house." 

"Is  'sharpshooter's  joint'  a  sort  of  Mothers'  Meeting?" 
asked  Charles. 

"Not  exactly,"  said  Kelly  laughing.  "What  I  mean  is 
that  it  is  a  place  for  swell  dancers.  What  mother  will 
appreciate  is  the  skating — they  have  a  rink  there  as  well  as 
a  dance  floor — it's  the  livest  spot  in  town." 

So  to  the  College  Inn  they  went. 

"A  liberal  education,"  murmured  Charles,  as  he  saw  the 
diners,  slender  and  stout,  middle-aged  and  youthful,  rise 
from  perfectly  good  food  to  glide  and  sway  around  to 
syncopated  music  in  each  other's  arms. 

The  somewhat  sombre  background  in  this  underworld  of 
dark  oak  and  square  pillars  accentuated  the  joyousness  of 
dress  and  curve  of  figure.  Charles  had  by  this  time  learned 
enough  about  the  twostep  and  other  such  modem  dances 
to  realize  that  Mike  was  ri^^t  in  claiming  these  as  ex- 
perts. 

"Is  this,"  he  asked,  with  a  shade  of  malice,  "a  post-grad- 
uate or  merely  a  University  Extension  class  in  Cabaretics  ? 
Are  these  included  in  your  seven  thousand  registered  stu- 
dents?" 

"Sir  Christopher  Hatton,"  replied  Kelly,  "is  said  to  have 
been  made  Lord  Chancellor  of  England  by  Queen  Elizabeth 
because  of  his  skill  in  dancing,  and  in  the  same  way  Charles 
Fitzmorris  may  find  preferment  v.'ith  Good  Queen  Made- 
line." 

Charles's  retort  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  two 
gaily  dressed  skaters  on  the  rink  of  artificial  ice  which  had 
been  the  happy  thought  of  the  restaurateur.  Here  in  swel- 
tering midsummer  Chicago  could  get  the  suggestion  of  cool 
winter,  and  over  crbme  de  menthe  f rappee  watch  this  most 
exhilarating  of  outdoor  sports.  Undir  a  striped  awning,  a 
bright  succession  of  Scandinavians  waltzed  and  twirled  and 
pirouetted  and  cut  miraculous  figures  till  the  eyes  were 


*   il 


DRUMS  AFAR 


261 


dazed  with  the  intricacy  of  their  movements  and  the  glare 
of  ice  and  the  kaleidoscope  of  colour. 

Then  the  dancing  on  the  floor  recommenced,  and  Charles's 
brain  was  busy  once  again  studying  the  niceties  of  style 
v/hich  he  saw  gave  grace  and  distinction  to  steps  otherwise 
banal. 


CHA'TER  XXVI 

NEXT  morning's  papers  were  heavy  with  import. 
Russia  had  called  a  huge  army  to  the  colours  and 
suspended  diplomatic  intercourse  with  Austro- 
Hungary.     Mr.  Asqitith  had  emphasized  in  the 
House  of  Commons  the  gravity  of  the  situation. 

The  echoes  of  Hit  Euiopean  conflict  grew  louder  in  Chi 
cago.    Wheat  rose  to  a  dollar  and  Austrian  subjects  re- 
ceived their  call  to  the  colours.    Aus'rians  and  Serbs  em- 
ployed in  the  steel  mills  at  Joliet  were  clashing  in  street 
fights  with  stone  throwing  and  revolver  shots. 

There  were  50,000  Slavs  in  Chicago,  according  to  the 
Herald,  and  500,000  of  German  birth  or  extraction.  An- 
other paper  said  there  were  125,000  Poles,  and  that  over 
1,000,000  spoke  some  other  language  than  English.  What 
would  happen  if  Germany  came  into  the  war?  At  one  hotel 
alone  forty  Austrian  and  German  waiters  were  subject  to 
military  service  in  Europe.  Were  they  not  typical  of  the 
rest?  Could  they  stay  quiet  when  their  homes  acioss 
the  seas  were  aflame?  Surely  the  Americans  were  lulling 
themselves  into  a  false  security.  The  torch  that  was  to 
blaze  in  Europe  would  also  flare  upon  the  streets  and  fields 
of  Illinois. 

In  spite  of  Madeline's  reassurance  that  the  foreigners  in 
Chicago  would  remain  indifferent,  Charles  was  not  per- 
suaded. There  might  be  truth  in  Joseph  Chamberlain's  dic- 
tum that  "the  naturalized  alien  is  the  most  ardent  patriot," 
but  the  immigration  into  the  United  States  had  come  so 
fast  tha*  hjw  many  had  time  to  ask  for  naturalization 
papers  ? 

At  a  mass  meeting  in  Pilsen  Hall,  Bohemians  had  climbed 
to  the  rafters  and  torn  down  a  shield  emblazoned  with  the 
double  eagle  while  three  thousand  men  and  women  stood 

363 


DRUMS  AFAR 


26,3 


on  their  seats  and  cheered.  "To  Hell  with  Austria"  was  the 
motto  on  their  banners,  and  they  had  passed  a  resolution 
of  sympathy  with  the  Sen'ian  nation.  Ser\ians  at  St.  Louts 
were  reported  to  be  drilling,  and  all  over  the  country  im- 
mense rallies  were  announced. 

Mike  was  busy  on  an  impor'am  case,  but  Charles  said 
he  would  get  all  the  entertair;/  1 1  he  desired  if  they  would 
let  him  wander  alone  throt 'h  t's:     '  :ci     it   'Thicago  and 


ne 


■nitt*<i  St"'..:-  It  was  not 
r  V  ♦'  e  '^\  1,  \  re-  aurants,  at 
i\.t  ;fit  If:!'  t.i:  pulse  of 
u:'..h-  wcvd  'A  workers  to 
jc:  .tr  -.  n  underworld  to 
::      a    tne  dollar  paid  as 


improve  his  knowledge  of 
in  the  clubs,  on  the  golf-cou  .  ■ 
the  matinee,  he  said  to  Im  ^1. 
the  people.  There  mu?;  be  ar 
account  for  this  upper*  rist  </: 
whom  the  only  common  •i^'^p^ 
wage. 

In  the  Loop,  business  seem.'G  '  tisi:  as  ever,  though  the 
hurry?.  I J  passers-by  snatched  up  u.c  ^ai -sheets  advertised 
in  flaming  contents-bills  and  by  their  raucous  vendors.  The 
only  noticeable  crowd  was  in  South  Qark  Street  opposite 
the  Post  Office. 

"Steamship  Office,"  answered  a  policeman  to  Charles's 
question.  "Poor  suckers  of  Serbians  trying  to  get  berths 
to  Europe.    Guess  they'd  be  wise  to  stay  where  they  are." 

Charles  crossed  the  street  to  :ce  i''  ^m  closer — fine  looking 
fellows,  most  of  thfem  with  clothes  such  as  would  be  worn 
only  on  Sundays  by  a  well-paid  English  mechanic.  Chicago 
had  treated  them  well.  Most  of  them  spoke  a  fair  Au^eii':an 
English.  They  were  talking  hard  too,  discussing  the  scare- 
heads  that  thundered  their  startling  messages  ac.  :2j  the 
front  pages  of  the  war  editions. 

"They'll  never  get  there,"  cynically  remarked  a  bystander 
who,  like  Charles,  had  pressed  forward  to  look  at  them. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Charles. 

"V/ar  will  be  over.  Austria  wil'  have  gobbled  up  Servia 
in  three  weeks.  This  is  a  game  put  up  by  those  steamship 
pirates." 

The  news  was  certainly  disturbing.  Russia  was  told  by 
Germany  that  she  must  explain  her  .mobilization  within 


264 


DRUMS  AFAR 


twenty-four  hours.  The  reserve  officers  of  the  Guards 
Army  Corps  at  Berlin  were  ordered  to  mobilize,  and  pre- 
paratory orders  for  the  mobilization  of  the  whole  German 
army  issued.  Every  military  preparation  short  of  mobiliza- 
tion had  been  taken  by  France.  Great  Britain  too  was 
moving.  She  had  called  up  her  special  army  reservists — 
electricians,  military  engineers  and  minelayers,  and  had 
sent  out  her  Fleet  to  an  unknown  destination  under  sealed 
orders.  Prices  in  Wall  Street  were  somersaulting,  and  in 
Chicago  itself  wheat  shot  up  to  a  dollar,  though  dealings 
were  said  to  be  small. 

The  six  hours  difference  in  time  between  London  and 
Chicago  seemed  to  make  the  news  more  red  hot. 

Yet  apart  from  these  foreign  wage-earners  called  back 
to  the  ranks,  Chicago  appeared  almost  indifferent.  Feeling 
hungry,  Charles  stepped  into  the  Kaiserhof  for  luncheon,  a 
restaurant  evidently  as  German  as  its  name  to  judge  by 
the  menu  and  the  conversation  of  its  guests.  Yet  it  showed 
no  more  excitement  than  the  Gambrinus  he  remembered  off 
Piccadilly  Circus.  Every  one  was  talking  loudly,  but  the 
Germans  always  did  talk  loudly.  The  table  at  the  left  was 
arguing  about  the  price  of  a  consignment  of  manicure 
sets.  The  man  on  his  right  was  complaining  to  a  suspi- 
ciously fair  lady  about  the  effect  of  weather  on  his  appe- 
tite. Behind  him  two  impresarios  were  debating  the  virtue 
of  a  well-known  operatic  star.  The  Kaiser  was  evidently  as 
far  away  as  Potsdam  was. 

Reading  an  editorial  in  the  Herald,  Charies  found  the 
solution. 

"The  United  States  to-day  is  in  a  better  position  than  any 
of  the  great  powers  of  the  world  ...  It  comes  from  a 
constant  adherence  to  the  spirit  and  the  letter  of  the  weighty 
counsel  of  George  Washington  that  we  should  have  no  'en- 
tangling alliances'  ...  The  outstanding  feet  of  the  Ameri- 
can situation  to-day  is  that  we  don't  want  war  and  there 
is  no  probability  of  our  having  it  .  .  .  How  different  it 
would  be  if  we  had  an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  with 
England  or  any  other  great  nation  or  group  of  nations! 


DRUMS  AFAR 


265 


^: 


What  anxiety  all  over  the  country!  .  .  .  We  realize  that  a 
great  principle  has  been  handed  down  to  us  that  is  worth 
millions  in  men,  billions  in  money." 

That  accounted  for  their  complacency.  German  might 
be  their  language,  but  the  ghost  of  George  Washington  was 
their  breastplate.  What  had  a  European  war  to  do  with 
them? 

That  afternoon  he  spent  in  making  further  acquaintance 
with  the  intricate  complexity  of  Qiicago  departmental 
stores,  walking  back  for  exercise  the  whole  of  the  way  to 
Evanston. 

How  far  off  seemed  the  war  as  he  watched  the  children 
playing  in  Lincoln  Park,  and  how  far  off  again  as  he  saw 
the  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  bathers  flooding 
the  streets  that  led  to  the  beaches  of  Lake  Michigan  with  a 
tide  of  various  stages  of  dishabille!  The  surf  which  had 
lashed  the  shore  for  the  last  three  days  had  abated,  and 
from  every  dwelling  and  apartment  house  in  this  suburban 
warren,  old  and  young,  dark  and  fair,  streamed  out  in  in- 
exhaustible humanity  towards  the  enticing  waters. 

Hardly  had  he  entered  the  Kelly's  house  when  the  tele- 
phone rang.    It  was  Madeline. 

"Charles,  dear,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  You  passed 
our  house  without  looking  to  see  if  I  was  at  the  window. 
I  was,  and  I  waved  to  you,  but  you  took  no  notice." 

"I'm  so  sorry — I  must  have  been  absent-minded " 

"Well,  if  that  isn't  the  limit !  I  suppose  you'll  forget  you 
are  coming  with  us  to  Ravinia  Park  to-morrow." 

"Forget?  When  I  have  been  looking  forward  to  it  all 
the  week? " 

"All  right,  old  boy.  I  was  only  joking.  But  ''-n't  pass 
the  house  again  without  looking  up.  Write  us  a  line  to- 
night.   Till  to-morrow!" 

Write  her  a  line  ? 

He  wrote  her  thirty  pages,  the  contents  of  which  any 
reader  of  the  gentler  sex  who  has  been  loved  to  distrac- 
tion for  ever  so  short  a  time  by  an  impressionable  youth 
with  a  reasonable  command  of  the  English  language  can 


266 


DRUMS  AFAR 


imagine,  and  probably  find  the  duplicate  tied  round  with 
blue  ribbon  and  hid  away  in  the  little  case  which  passes 
for  a  jewel  box. 

"For  Chicago  and  vicinity"  read  Mike  from  his  newspaper 
as  Charles  entered  the  breakfast-room  next  morning,  "Un- 
settled weather  to-day  and  to-morrow,  probably  with  show- 
ers ;  somewhat  higher  temperature  to-day ;  moderately  vari- 
able winds." 

"And  what's  the  news  from  Europe?" 
Mike  turned  back  from  the  weather  report  to  the  front 
page. 

"All  Europe  is  angling.  Serbs  and  Austrians  in  Battle. 
War  steps  are  taken  by  Britain— gee  whilikins !— the  naval 
boom  across  Portsmouth  was  put  down  at  eleven  o'clock 
last  night—that  looks  like  business— Dover  harbour  cleared 
of  all  shipping " 

His  mouth  tightened  as  he  read  down  the  column. 
^^  "Here  you  are,  Fitz,"  he  said  handing  over  the  paper. 
"You  can  probably  size  it  up  better  than  I  can.    It  looks 
nasty  to  me." 

A  cable  from  the  Times  said  briefly  that  naval  and  mili- 
tary measures  of  a  precautionary  defensive  character  were 
being  carried  out  quietly  and  calmly  throughout  the  British 
Empire!  The  actual  steps  taken  it  would  be  unpatriotic 
to  mention— it  would  be  highly  improper  to  do  otherwise 
than  maintain  a  discreet  silence  about  the  disposition  of 
ships,  the  activity  in  the  dockyards,  the  movement  of 
coastguards  and  soldiers,  or  the  work  of  replenishing  the 
stores  of  munitions  of  war. 

Viola  read  over  his  shoulder. 

"Does  this  mean  war  for  England?"  she  said,  half  gasp- 
inp  as  she  sank  back  into  a  chair.  "How  monstrous !  How 
can  Parliament  allow  the  country  to  be  dragged  in  ?  A  Lib- 
eral Government  too— but  Grey  and  Asquith  were  always 
Tories  at  heart  I  Oh,  if  only  the  women  had  the  vote, 
there  would  never  be  any  war!" 

"Let's  forget  it  till  it  happens,"  said  Mike,  determined 
to  be  cheerful.    "H  any  news  comes  out,  I'll  telephone  from 


;   I 


DRUMS  AFAR 


267 


the  office  and  keep  you  posted.  In  the  meanwhile  don't 
let  the  eggs  go  cold." 

In  spite  of  Kelly's  forced  gaiety,  it  was  a  relief  to 
Qiarles  when  they  rose  from  the  table  and  dispersed.  Mike 
left  the  paper  behind,  and  eagerly  did  Charles  read  every 
word  pertaining  to  the  European  situation.  Then,  to  pass 
the  time,  he  commenced  a  letter  to  his  father,  when  shortly 
after  ten  o'clock  the  telephone  rang. 

"Hello— hello — that  you,  Charles?  Mike  speaking.  New 
York  Stock  Exchange  closed;  London  set  the  example 
this  morning." 

"What!    The  London  Stock  Exchange!" 

"Yes,  old  man — A.  P.  message.  If  you  want  to  cable 
your  father,  give  it  to  me  over  the  phone.  I  can  send  it 
quicker  from  here." 

"Just  this,"  said  Charles  thickly.  "Shall  I  come  home?, 
and  sign  it  Charles,  giving  the  address." 

"All  right,  old  man,"  came  Kelly's  voice  sympathetically. 
"That'll  go  this  time." 

Charles  turned  to  find  Viola  listening. 

"Oh,  you  mustn't  go— you  mustn't !"  she  said,  and  burst 
into  tears. 

"Why  not?"  he  said,  taking  her  arm  and  leading  her  to 
the  sofa.  "Father  may  want  me.  I've  no  right  to  stay 
here  if  he  does — this  probably  means  ruin  to  him." 

"What  is  ruin  compared  to  life,"  she  exclaimed.  "War 
like  this  one  means  that  every  man  must  fight.  Oh,  can't 
you  see — how  fortunate  you  are  to  be  on  this  side — why 
go  back  into  the  lion's  den?" 

"Rubbish!"  he  said  reassuringly,  but  at  the  same  time 
was  startled  by  the  thought.  "England  has  her  navy — it 
is  France  and  Russia  that  will  have  to  fight  on  land." 

But  "poor  Frank,"  was  all  she  would  say,  "poor  Frank!" 

Just  then  a  faint  cry  came  from  the  nursery,  and  Charles 
was  unfeignedly  relieved  when  Viola  left  the  room. 

"She  has  been  high-strung  ever  since  baby  was  bom," 
explained  Mrs.  Kelly,  "and  imagines  things.  She  will  be 
all  right  after  a  little." 


I  i 


268 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I  think  I'll  go  downtown,"  said  Charles.  "I'm  too  im- 
patient to  wait  for  the  news  here.  If  the  answer  to  the 
cable  comes  before  I  get  back,  phone  it  to  Mike's  office  " 

Secretly  he  had  resolved  to  go  to  Cook's,  whose  office 
he  had  noticed,  and  book,  or  at  least  reserve  his  passage  in 
case  of  accidents.  Before  leaving  he  hesitated  whether  he 
should  speak  first  to  Madeline  and  warn  her  of  his  possible 
change  m  plans,  then  decided  he  had  better  not  disturb  her 
He  did  not  want  another  scene  like  that  with  Viola  As 
he  drove  m  h.s  taxi  past  the  Raymonds'  house,  he  did  not 
forget  this  time  to  look  up  at  the  window,  but  she  was 
not  there,  and  somehow  he  was  glad.  She  might  have 
stopped  him  and  then  he  might  have  had  to  tell 

Cook  s  office  was  thronged  with  an  agitated  crowd  anxious 
to  get  m  touch  with  or  send  money  to  relatives  in  Europe. 
The  clerks  were  polite  but  unhappy,  and  Charles  saw  little 
chance  of  so  much  as  catching  the  eye  of  one  of  them.  For- 
tunately as  he  stood  disconsolate  and  somewhat  apart  he 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  manager  who  happened  to 
return  just  then  from  a  conference  in  another  office 

Beckoning  to  Charles,  he  led  him  into  his  private' room 
and  offered  him  a  chair  and  a  cigar.    There  was  a  pleasant 

kTI  ^^  ?  r' «°'  "^'^.^^"^ ''"'"°"'"'  •"  t*^*^  ey"  oi  this  rather 
baldheaded  fellow  with  the  dark  moustache 

.a«7?  ^'■\«y'<^fntly  an  Englishman  like  myself,"  he  said. 
What  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

ru'^°"  ?fl*  ^^  •"*  ^  P*'**S«  ^^^  ho™«."  answered 
Charles,  that  is,  subject  to  my  getting  a  cable  which  I 
expect  to-day  or  to-morrow." 

"Glad  to  hear  of  anything  that  is  not  a  cancellation," 
remarked  the  other  with  a  smile.  "Here  is  something  just 
vacated  on  the  FiVfonon-upper  promenade  deck-outside 
cabin— leaves  Quebec  on  Tuesday." 

"Oh,  a  Canadian  boat,"  objected  Charles— "Haven't  vou 
anvthmg  out  of  New  York  ?*' 

"Why  yes.  but  from  Chicago  it  is  just  as  quic'.  to  go  bv 
way  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  it's  a  shorter  sea-voyaee  "    ' 
I  d  rather  not,"  said  Charles.     "Candidly  I  never'  was 


DRUMS  AFAR 


269 


keen  on  Canadians — at  least  English  Canadians.  They  al- 
ways seem  so  self-assertive." 

"Over  here,"  replied  the  other,  "you  have  to  be  self-s^ 
sertive  if  you  wish  to  get  anywhere.  However,  there  are 
lots  of  British  ships  leaving  New  York  next  week,  or  there 
is  a  French  line  boat  next  Wednesday — all  the  German 
lines  went  out  of  business  this  morning." 

"The  deuce  they  did !    Then  it  means " 

"Yes,  it  means " 

They  looked  at  each  other  with  an  understanding  which 
needed  no  words. 

Ultimately,  they  fixed  on  the  Celtic,  subject  to  confirma- 
tion next  morning. 

"I've  done  it  now,"  said  Charles  to  himself  as  he 
stepped  out  of  the  office.  "What  will  Madeline  say  when 
she  hears !" 

"Keep  cool,"  said  Mike  as  Charles  entered  the  office,  his 
face  still  flushed.  "The  weather  report  was  wrong.  It's 
going  to  be  one  hell  of  a  hot  day — eighty  in  the  shade 
already.  New  York  is  not  so  badly  hit  as  at  first  sup- 
posed. Only  one  assignment  due  to  stocks,  the  other  three 
were  cotton.  Guess  they  did  the  right  thing  to  prevent  a 
panic." 

When  Charles  told  him  what  he  had  done,  Mike  framed 
his  lips  into  a  whistle. 

"You  certainly  haven't  lost  time,"  he  said.  "Docs  Miss 
Raymond  know?" 

"Not  yet." 

"My  dear  Charles,  do  you  know  that  it  is  only  one's  wife 
that  one  may  treat  as  if  she  did  not  count.  Miss  Raymond 
is  your  fiancee.  Joking  apart,  don't  you  think  you  should 
ha-  e  consulted  her  ?" 

C  harles  realized  his  remissness,  and  looked  as  miserable 
as  lie  felt. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  he  asked. 

"Trust  to  luck,"  replied  Kelly.  "If  the  cable  says  you 
need  not  come,  you  can  own  up  to  it  some  time  in  the 
moonlight  when  she  feels  good.    But  girls  are  queer  ducks, 


m 


270 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i  ! 


i 


i  I 


and  it  doesn't  do  to  take  too  much  for  granted  If  I 
were  you.  I  should  find  out  just  as  soon  as  possible  how 
she  would  take  it  if  you  did  have  to  go." 

All  that  day,  Charles  was  too  excited  to  go  anywhere  or 
do  anything  except  buy  each  edition  of  each  newspaper  as 
It  came  on  the  street,  poring  over  the  war  news  and  the 
articles  dealing  with  the  situation  both  in  Europe  and  the 
United  States. 

^  "Come  and  see  Charlie  Chaplin  at  a  movie,"  urged  Mike 
'  and  forget  the  war  for  an  hour." 

But  Charles  could  not  be  persuaded.  Every  moment  the 
thought  reverberated  as  a  roaring  undercurrent  through  all 
other  thoughts.  "What  will  happen  to  Father  ?--what  will 
happen  to  Father?"— and  he  had  before  him  the  picture  of 
the  study  at  Richmond  as  on  the  night  when  Charles  had 
told  his  plans. 

As  soon  as  they  returned  home,  Mrs.  Kelly  suggested  to 
Charles  that  he  should  ring  up  Madeline  Raymond. 

"She  has  telephoned  about  this  evening  at  least  three  times 
to-day.  I'm  sure  it  was  really  you  she  wished  to  speak 
to 

harles  lost  no  time  in  following  her  advice, 
•lello,  Charles,"  came  the  answer.    "Wherever  have  you 
^     all  day?    I  have  had  such  a  narrow  escape  and  was 
aymg  to  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"Not  hurt,  I  hope,"  he  asked  anxiously. 

"No,  no— not  an  accident.  But  say,  it'll  have  to  wait  now 
till  this  evening.  We've  sent  the  maids  on  ahead  to  Lake 
Geneva,  and  I'm  cooking  the  dinner  just  now— but  this 
morning  I  nearly  went  off  my  head  with  excitement.  I 
never  should  have  taken  such  a  step  without  telling  you 
about  it  first,  or  Father,  or  somebody.  It  will  be  a  lesson 
to  me  for  the  future.    Good-bye." 

What  could  have  been  the  matter?  Charles's  curiosity 
was  properly  aroused  and  even  to  some  extent  obscured 
his  anxiety  about  his  father.  Just  then  the  door-bell  rang. 
and  a  messenger  delivered  the  cable. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


271 


J 


Mike  and  his  mother  hovered  round  to  hear  the  mes- 
sage. 

"Stay  where  you  are  credit  still  good  all  well  father" 

"What  a  relief  I"  exclaimed  Charles. 

"That  father  of  yours  is  a  real  fellow,"  said  Mike,  "and 
no  fool  either,  if  he  got  out  in  time." 

A  very  much  more  cheerful  Charles  partook  of  supper 
that  evening  and  stepped  into  the  car  in  which  Mike  was 
to  drive  them  to  Ravinia  Park.  Madeline  was  ravishingly 
beautiful  and  in  equally  high  spirits,  but  elected  to  sit  beside 
the  driver,  so  that  he  was  still  denied  the  story  of  the 
escape.  They  drove  in  a  regular  procession  of  cars  through 
Winnetka  and  Glencoe,  through  an  area  of  woods  and  ra- 
vines into  a  branch  road  which  led  into  the  Park.  Charm- 
ingly laid  out  with  beds  of  flowers  and  green  swards  shaded 
with  fine  trees,  this  pleasaunce  culminated  in  an  open-air 
auditorium  where  the  well-to-do  suburban  dwellers  listened 
of  a  summer  afternoon  or  evening  to  symphony  concerts  and 
grand  opera.  Sufficient  roof  was  provided  to  ward  off  every 
disturbing  element  except  the  insidious  mosquito,  which  by 
this  time  of  year  was  fortunately  less  aggressive  than 
earlier  in  July.  The  greenery  of  the  surrounding  trees,  the 
dark  blue  of  the  set  background,  the  gaiety  of  the  Spanish 
costumes  on  the  stage,  the  gleam  of  white  shoulders  and 
luxurious  dresses  in  the  audience — all  made  a  rich  setting 
to  the  music  they  had  come  to  hear, 

Madeline  manoeuvred  Charles  into  the  seat  on  her  left, 
with  Kelly  and  her  mother  on  her  right  and  her  father 
with  Mrs.  Kelly  on  the  extreme  flank.  As  soon  as  the 
orchestra  struck  up,  she  began  to  whisper  her  story,  and 
though  the  people  in  front  kept  turning  round  and  looking 
daggers  at  her  nothing  could  stop  her. 

"Charles,"  she  said,  "I  was  in  a  dreadful  fix  last  night 
when  I  spoke  to  you  over  the  phone,  but  somehow  I  had  not 
the  nerve  to  tell  you  about  it.  I  don't  know  what  possessed 
me  to  do  what  I  did,  but  it  seemed  such  a  safe  gamble  that 


272 


DRUMS  AFAR 


ff   ! 


LTJ^".?  '"''kLi  ^"^u"^  *"  '^^  P^P«"  ^'^  that  the 
market  had  reached  rockbottom.  and  stocks  were  ripe  for 
recovery,  so  I  went  long  on  Reading " 

"LolT"*^'']'-^'-"  f ''^•"^'^^  ^^"'•'^  •"  astonishment. 
Long  on  Reading— the  railway  stock— just  a  little  flut- 
ter; and  to  be  perfectly  safe,  on  a  twenty  point  margin^ 
just  a  hundred  shares,  but  it  meant  two  ?hS^sand  Srs 
all  had  to  my  account.    Well,  you  know  Thursday  was 

blue  ruin,  and  m  the  afternoon  my  broker " 

"Your  broker?" 

"Yes,  my  broker-why  shouldn't  I  have  a  broker  ?-rane 
first  post  this  mornmg  he  would  sell  me  out  as  soon  as  the 

?h\    ;1^'°?  ^'^'^^"^^  °P«^^^'  «"<»  <='o^«  "»y  account 
Think  of  that  from  a  friend;  he  used  to  call  himself  my 

Uieatre-that  was  before  I  went  to  Europe  and  before  he 
got  marned.     I  never  had  such  a  shock  in  my  life 
could  not  raise  the  money  myself  on  such  short  notice- 

on  ma  "gJn^'' "^''""'^  ^'^  ^"^^•^^'"  °^^  '^  ^^y  ^^^s 
"Good  for  him !"  interjected  Charles 

a  corn.'!!'LT^'*"'*  ^^\  ^"^**^  '^"^  ^^^  '"  i"«t  as  tight 
a  corner  as  I  was  myself;  anyway,  she  kept  looking  into 

^^fh'X^^^'"M'PP'l^"^"*°^"  '**^  '"the  afternoon 
^ith  the  pearl  necklace  she  is  wearing  to-night— she  has 

tSnl  the"'  T"-  ^^"'  '  "^^^^  ^''P*  ^  ^"i^  -"night 
Hown  ?  w '^  """'*  ?™'^-  ^  *<^"'t  «ven  dare  to  come 
together  ^''^^^^''-T  ^^  '"''*^*'''  ^*  i"^t  sat  and  cried 
hf  nv^W  "  ^"''  ^*^"*  '*."-*^''^>'  *^^  telephone  rang  with 
^orkTt^TT^^"  "^^  '*-*^'*^"'*  yo"?-that  the  Ne. 

sen  «s  n,^t  M  !^'  "'T  "P""^  ^*  *"•  ^o  »>«  <^o"Wnt 
sell  us  out.  My  goodness,  how  happy  I  was!  Mother  and 
I  danced  round  the  room  together  and  then  I  thought  I 
would  call  you  up  and  confess  to  you.  But  you  had  left 
he  house  and  I  d.Jnt  like  to  ask  where  you  had  gon 
for  fear  Mrs,  Kelly  should  think  me  inquisitive " 
Amazed  as  Charles  was  at  this  story,  told  with  a  vivacity 


I 


DRUMS  AFAR 


273 


i  i 


that  left  him  no  eyes  or  ears  for  the  oi>era  itself,  he  wan 
also  secretly  relieved  at  the  thought  that  Madeline  also  had 
taken  chances  without  first  consulting  him.  It  absolved 
him  from  any  urgency  in  telling  her  about  his  visit  to 
Cook's,  although  he  thought  it  only  right  to  show  lier  the 
cable  from  his  father.  This  resulted  in  ftirther  agitated 
whispers  which  continued  right  to  the  end  of  the  first  act. 

During  the  interval,  they  all  rose  to  walk  about  in  the 
gardens.  Mr.  Raymond  took  his  daughter's  arm,  while 
Charles  entertained  the  mother.  They  followed  Madeline 
and  her  father  near  enough  to  overhear  the  drift  of  con- 
versation. 

"Your  conduct  this  evening,"  Mr.  Raymond  was  saying, 
"has  been  outrageous.  Couldn't  you  see  the  people  turning 
round  and  looking  at  you?  I  wonder  that  some  one  did 
not  ask  you  to  be  quiet.  It  was  impossible  for  any  one 
near  you  to  enjoy  the  music  while  you  kept  whispering  so. 
I  can't  imderstand  how  you,  with  your  expensive  musical 
education,  could  behave  so  inconsiderately.  If  the  music 
had  been  Wagner,  I  shouldn't  have  minded  so  much,  but  it 
was  Bizet — and  Carmen." 


if 

IS 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

AT  last  the  day  broke  on  which  Charles  was  once 
more  to  share  the  same  roof  as  his  charmer  The 
mommg  papers  showed  that  war  with  France  and 
it.hu  T7  ^""'\a.ga'nst  Germany  and  Austria  was  inev- 
itable Unglandbemg  a  possible  and  even  probable  fifth :  but 
with  his  fathers  reassuring  cable  war  meant  less  now  than 
^e  disturbing  element  of  love,  which  fired  his  heart  and 
filled  his  whole  being  with  a  sweet  unrest.  Just  about  the 
wTr  on  p"  E"iperor  William  was  signing  his  declaration  o 
war  on  Russia.  President  Pomcare  was  proclaiming  mobiliz- 

hn^K^^'^'n",'"""/"""'^  ^""y'  Austrian  monitors  were 
bombardmg  Belgrade,  and  the  first  shots  were  being  ex- 
changed between  German  and  Russian  patrols.  Charles  was 
enjoying  the  luxury  of  an  American  face  massage,  and  a 
superlative  shave,  taking  these  precautions  in  cafe  an  op! 

suming  that  she  would  prefer  to  have  her  own  very  soft 
cheeks  touched  by  a  well-groomed  face  rather  than  a  rough 

At  three  thirty,  the  Raymonds  called  for  him  in  a  laree 
touring  car.     Madeline  herself  was  driving,  superb  in  a 

^Tl'^l^  °^  u^'"^''  '^'"  ^^*  ^^W«  <^°»ar  tmd  cuffs 
Z\Tliu/  \^^^'^^^P-  Mrs.  Raymond  reclined  in  a  more 
hl1n?nr»,  5T**'"^.*°  mstructions  Charies  had  sent 
his  trunk  ahead  by  tram  to  Lake  Geneva,  so  that  there 
was  ample  room  for  himself  and  his  smaller  belongings    He 

when  Madeline  beckoned  him  beside  her.  and  so  off  they 
went.    She  proved  herself  a  skilful  driver,  and  if  he  had  not 
seen  the  speedor^ieter  he  could  hardly  have  imagined  the 
thirty  miles  an  hour  at  which  they  travelled 
"When  did  you  learn  to  drive?"  he  asked. 

274 


DRUMS  AFAR 


275 


"As  soon  as  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  to  Europe,"  she 
replied.  "Father  kicked  at  the  expense  of  the  trip,  so  I 
said  he  could  fire  the  chauffeur  and  let  me  drive  his  car 
instead  for  a  year.  That  saved  him  a  thousand  dollars  and 
did  me  a  lot  of  good.  I  came  to  think  that  if  I  failed  as  a 
singer,  I  could  get  a  job  acting  for  the  movies— just  watch 
me  pass  that  car." 

With  his  heart  in  his  mouth,  he  saw  her  purr  round  a 
limousine  at  fifty.  Fortunately  for  his  peace  of  mind,  they 
had  only  a  few  miles  to  go  to  Highland  Park,  but  as  they 
did  an  outside  edge  up  to  the  portico  of  the  hotel  he  won- 
dered how  many  other  accomplishments  Madeline  on  more 
intimate  acquaintance  would  reveal. 

Mr.  Raymond  had  secured  for  them  a  suite  of  rooms  in 
the  South  Aimex  and  Mrs.  Raymond  suggested  tea  in  their 
private  porch. 

"Oh  no  I"  protested  Madeline.  "It's  much  more  fun 
in  the  regular  tea-room." 

So  there  they  went. 

"Certainly  attractive,"  said  Charies  on  being  asked  to 
admire. 

Large  sunny  windows  lit  up  the  coffee-coloured  lattice 
roof,  while  the  woodwork  and  pillars  were  also  painted 
coffee-colour  with  blue  edges.  Chairs  with  blue  ladder- 
backs  and  basket  lamps  hanging  from  chains  with  old  gold 
shades  added  their  distinctive  note. 

A  self-consciously  smart  crowd  of  eariier  arrivals  scruti- 
nized them  as  they  entered,  but  Madeline  and  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond were  too  fresh  from  Paris  to  be  disconcerted.  Made- 
line indeed  made  most  of  them  look  dowdy. 

As  they  were  ordering  tea,  some  friends  of  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond came  across  the  room  to  gush  their  welcome  back 
to  America,  taking  the  opportunity  to  present  two  officers 
to  Madeline.  These  at  once  endeavoured  to  secure  her 
promise  of  dances  that  evening,  but  she  v/as  politely  evasive. 
They  had  hitherto  ignored  the  presence  of  the  unknown 
Englishman  and,  now  that  they  suspected  his  possible  sig- 
nificance, Charles,  who  was  master  of  the  art  of  looking 


MICROCOfY   RfSOlUTION   TBT   CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


\2a 


13.2 


13.6 


14.0 


12.0 


1.8 


j4 


/APPLIED  IM/1GE 


'65J    East    Moin    Strnl 
''ochMtwr.    Ntw   York         U6C3 
(716)    482  -  0300  -Phon» 
(716)  28i'  -  5989  -  Fo« 


276 


DRUMS  AFAR 


>  > 


If 


through  any  one  to  whom  he  had  not  been  introduced,  was 
highly  entertained. 

Stepping  out  after  tea  on  to  the  Terrace,  Madeline  and 
Charles  left  the  elder  Raymonds  to  watch  the  tennis  while 
they  themselves  went  to  investigate  the  beach.  This  was 
reached  by  a  path  through  the  woods,  and  it  required  no 
lovers'  eyes  to  discover  admirable  opportunities  for  quiet 
strolls  through  such  shady  ravines.  In  the  meanwhile  the 
allurements  of  the  sandy  beach  proved  irresistible,  and  be- 
fore many  minutes  were  over  they  were  down  under  the 
bluff  in  the  water  with  twenty  or  thirty  others,  swimming 
and  splashing  and  luxuriating  in  the  cool  freshness  of  Lake 
Michigan's  sunlit  waters. 

If  Madeline  could  drive  a  car,  Charles  could  swim,  and 
the  ease  and  grace  with  which  he  moved  through  the  water 
showed  Madeline  that  the  man  she  had  given  her  heart  to 
was  master  of  at  least  one  sport. 

"I  wish  you  would  teach  me  that  stroke,"  she  said,  after 
she  had  proved  his  speed  by  challenging  him  to  a  race  in 
which  she  was  hopelessly  defeated.  The  play  of  muscles 
in  his  arms,  and  the  supple  well-knit  breast  and  shoulders 
fascinated  her,  and  she  made  him  go  through  the  motions 
again  and  again,  half  for  the  pleasure  of  watching  him.  He 
in  turn  was  not  displeased  at  this  chance  of  showing  oflF, 
and  the  interval  to  dinner  passed  before  they  knew. 

Almost  at  t'le  last  swim,  her  bathing  cap  fell  off,  and 
her  dark  coils  of  hair  unfolded  and  floated  on  the  surface. 
With  a  cry  of  dismay  she  stood  up  to  retrieve  it,  waist  high 
in  water,  but  so  long  were  the  tresses  that  they  must  surely 
have  otherwise  fallen  to  her  knees.  Behind  her  was  a  fair- 
haired  Scandinavian,  and  for  the  first  time  Charles  realized 
how  dark  was  Madeline's  skin.  The  graceful  curve  of  her 
arms  as  she  caught  up  and  tried  to  replace  the  tresses, 
and  the  profile  of  her  firm  deep  bosom  was  a  picture  of  en- 
chanting beauty.  As  she  turned  her  eyes  to  him  half 
laughing,  half  distressful  asking  him  for  assistance,  and  he 
slipped  his  fingers  through  the  soft  silken  glory,  it  took  all 


>  4 


DRUMS  AFAR 


277 


his  self-control  to  keep  from  catching  her  in  his  arms  and 
covering  her  face  with  kisses. 

"You  little  witch!"  he  whispered.    "You  little  witch!" 

Only  three  weeks  ago  he  would  have  shied  at  the  mere 
thought  of  a  dance.  Now  he  grudged  every  moment  of 
delay  till  the  orchestra  struck  up  in  the  ball-room.  The 
remembrance  of  those  delicious  moments  on  the  deck  of 
the  St.  Louis,  when  he  could  place  his  arm  around  Made- 
line's waist,  inhale  the  fragrance  which  pervaded  her  cos- 
tume, feel  the  pressure  and  yielding  of  her  body  in  the 
rhythm  of  poise  and  motion,  thrill  at  the  touch  of  her  hair, 
at  the  upward  glance  of  her  eyes,  at  the  low  music  of  her 
voice,  fired  his  blood  with  amorous  intoxication.  He  left 
so  much  of  dinner  untouched  that  Mrs.  Raymond  grew  con- 
cerned about  his  health,  and  Madeline,  fearing  too  early  a 
revelation,  spoke  quite  sharply  to  cover  his  indiscretion. 

Though  Madeline  spoke  sharply,  her  time  cane  later  when 
Charles  swung  her  out  into  the  first  dance.  Whether  it  was 
that  he  had  caught  new  inspiration  from  the  experts  at 
the  College  Inn,  or  whether  the  floor,  the  orchestra,  the 
atmosphere  tuned  him  to  more  delicate  sympathy  with  his 
partner,  these  two  glided  as  one  being  and  the  pause  in 
the  music  came  almost  as  a  shock.  Again  it  commenced, 
and  again  they  were  in  dreams,  too  soon  to  be  broken. 

"Who  has  been  teaching  you?"  she  asked,  as  they  re- 
turned to  their  table.  "On  the  St.  Louis  you  made  a  good 
beginning,  at  Newport  you  were  possible,  but  now  I  never 
wish  to  have  a  better  partner.  Is  this  one  of  your  friend 
Mike's  surprises?    Has  he  made  you  take  lessons?" 

"I  may  never  be  able  to  do  it  again,"  said  Charles,  "or  I 
may  have  fallen  into  the  knack  of  it." 

Mrs.  Raymond  took  him  in  hand  for  the  next  dance,  and 
though  less  perfect,  he  acquitted  himself  to  her  satisfac- 
tion. Then  again  he  was  with  Madeline,  and  again  she 
found  her  perfect  mate. 

"It  was  heavenly,"  she  sighed  at  the  close.  "Another 
turn  round  the  room  and  I  should  have  done  something 
foolish." 


1 


i 


I  i 


278 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"What  would  that  have  been?"  he  asked  ingenuously.  «id 
then  locking  into  her  eyes  wished  they  were  m  one  of  those 

'^Otefhad  noticed  how  well  they  danced,  and  both  Made- 
line and  Mrs  Raymond  were  effusively  hailed  by  more  or 
Ss  remote  a  quaintances.  working  up  to  an  ^troducUon  to 
tSs  accomplished  Englishman.    One  of  these  could  not  be 
evaded  and  Charles  flund  himself  revolving  wtth  a  slightly 
Hebraic  beauty  of  German  name,  exchanging  glances  of 
fol"  erXn^with  Madehne  who  was  evidently  to^trodd^n 
bv  a  stout  but  energetic  brewer.    Charles  s  partner  at  the 
rate  of  a  hundred  and  forty  to  a  hundred  and  sixty  word 
a  minute  poured  out  the  story  of  her  VO^r^gUiem^^ 
fea^inff  an  interval  for  more  than  a  monosyllabic  return. 
Therca^e  the  pause,  the  clapping  ofj-ds  the  ^^^^^^^^ 
consent  of  the  orchestra  to  go  on.    After  that  she  broke 
new  ground  with  the  question : 

"Aren't  the  bulletins  exciting?" 

"Which  bulletins?"  he  asked.  u    ♦  ♦*,. 

"The  war  bulletins-pasted  up  in  the  hall-atout  the 
latelt  developments..  Well.  I  am  surprised  that  an  English- 
man  should  take  so  little  interest  in  the  war. 

"Let's  go  and  see  them,"  he  said,  grasping  at  the  ex- 

*'''"They  can  wait,"  she  replied,  loath  to  lose  a  single  step. 

Mr    and  Mrs.  Raymond  were  tempted  to  a  game  of 

bridge,  and  Madeline  and  Charles  did  not  hesitate  to  excuse 

'^"Next  dance  is  mine."  said  Charles  when  they  had  gone, 
"and  the  next  and  all  the  rest  to  the  end  of  t^e/Tf  "If' 

"Do  you  love  me  so  much,"  she  replied,  or  is  this  the 
reaction  from  Abraham.  Isaac  and  Jacob? 

"It  was  you  that  introduced  me,"  he  murmured  as  they 

'"^'B^^fore  pleasure."  replied  this  -tojishing  girl. 
"Her  father  gives  my  father  twenty  thousand  dollar  or- 
ders.   If  you  want  to  see  much  more  of  me  this  evening. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


279 


we  shall  have  to  find  a  refuge  outside  this  room.    She  has 
her  eye  on  you,  and  the  account  is  large." 
"So  are  the  woods,"  said  Charles.    "Now  or  never." 
When  they  had  found  a  natural  secluded  arbour,  he  asked : 

"When  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  fathom  you?  Every  day 
you  show  a  new  side  to  your  character." 

"When  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  fathom  myself?"  she 
replied.  "You  have  seven  hundred  and  thirty-two  qualities 
against  which  I  have  a  prejudice,  and  yet  you  sweep  me  oflF 
my  feet,  simply  because  you  can  dance.  Yes,"  she  con- 
tinued, holding  her  hand  up  teasingly  against  her  cheek 
to  thwart  an  attempt  to  kiss  her,  "it  isn't  because  you  are 
an  Oxford  man  that  I  love  you,  but  because  you  have  the 
makings  of  another  Vernon  Castle." 

"Then  you  do  admit  you  love  me,"  he  said,  gently  but 
firmly  removing  the  protesting  hand. 

She  struggled  for  a  while,  but  he  would  not  be  denied, 
and  at  last  her  face  lay  unresistingly  against  his  while  he 
pressed  her  to  his  heart.  So  it  was  for  a  minute  or  so, 
when  the  flood-gates  of  her  soul  suddenly  burst  open.  She 
flung  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  her  lips  clung  to  his 
with  passionate  kisses. 

"I  believe  I'm  still  a  savage,"  she  whispered,  as  she  drew 
back  panting  for  breath. 

As  for  Charles,  he  said : 

"I  believe  I  would  like  you  better  as  a  savage  than  as  a 
citified  sophisticated  Chicago  girl.  It  is  this  raw  primal 
nature  that  has  bridged  the  ocean  and  the  three  hundred 
years  between  us.    My  God,  how  beautiful  you  are !" 


■ » 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

FROM  the  Moraine  to  Lake  Geneva  the  nominal  dis- 
tance was  fifty  miles,  but  Madeline  somehow  missed 
a  turning  and  they  were  nearly  three  hours  on  the 
trip.  The  deviation,  however,  enabled  Charles  to 
see  more  of  the  country,  and  in  that  summer  air  the  country 
was  particularly  beautiful.  To  his  surprise,  for  he  had 
expected  to  see  wild  uncultivated  prairies,  there  was  hardly 
a  field  which  lacked  its  crop— oats,  maize,  potatoes,  barley, 
wheat  or  timothy  hay  waving  dark  purple  through  his 
orange-tinted  motor-glasses,  though  more  like  lilac  to  the 
naked  eye.  These  fields  of  hay  smelt  wonderfully  sweet— 
they  knew  they  were  coming  to  the  timothy  almost  before 
it  was  in  sight. 

There  seemed  to  be  no  limit  to  the  motor  cars  they  met 
upon  the  road.  Many  of  these  carried  large  families,  and 
the  further  they  were  from  Chicago,  the  larger  the  family. 
Quite  a  number  of  lakes  were  passed,  particularly  as  they 
approached  the  rolling  country  of  Wisconsin.  From  one 
such  lake  they  saw  some  small  boys  trail  triumphantly  with 
a  string  of  fish.  There  were  fishing  rods,  too,  flaying  the 
Fox  River,  and  Mr.  Raymond  said  something  about  "hatch- 
cries,"  which  at  the  rate  they  were  going  Charles  found 
difficult  to  catch.  Trumpet  lilies  were  growing  wild  by  the 
wayside,  and  they  passed  one  clump  of  flaming  red  blossom 
which  he  was  told  was  Indian  Paintbrush,  and  remembered 
Viola's  garden.  One  great  tree  with  white  blossom  was 
pointed  out  as  "catalpa"  and  they  saw  more  than  one 
cherry  orchard  ripe  for  the  plucking. 

The  farmhouses  were  trim  and  tidy  with  bams  painted 
mostly  red.  Over  all  was  an  atmosphere  of  easy  prosperous 
comfort,  which  goes  to  market  and  gets  a  good  price.  If, 
as  the  newspaper  articles  said,  most  of  these  farmers  came 

380 


DRUMS  AFAR 


281 


originally  from  Europe,  they  had  good  reason  to  forget  it. 

The  village  of  Lake  Geneva,  which  itself  appeared  to  be 
composed  chiefly  of  ice-cream  parlours  and  phonographs, 
swarmed  this  afternoon  with  week-enders,  and  the  lake 
itself  near  the  village  was  alive  with  boats  and  bathers. 
Afterwards  came  a  quieter  and  more  exclusive  air,  along 
a  road  between  which  and  the  lake  pretentious  houses 
domineered  among  the  trees.  These  were  the  summer 
homes  of  fortunate  Chicagoans. 

"First  of  all,"  said  Madeline,  "come  the  Great.  A  little 
further  on  are  the  Near  Great,  and  then  come  the  Pretty 
Well  Fixed.    That's  where  we  belong." 

At  last  they  slowed  up  beside  a  clump  of  pine  trees  at 
a  rustic  gate  which  opened  into  grounds  guarded  from  the 
road  by  a  thick  cedar  hedge.  A  shaggy  spaniel  dashed  up 
the  avenue  towards  them  with  wild  yelps  of  delight,  and 
climbing  into  the  seat  Charles  had  vacated  to  open  the  gate 
covered  Madeline  with  doggy  caresses. 

"Dear  old  Melchizedek !"  she  exclaimed.  "Did  he  think 
we  were  never  coming  ?" 

Fort  Raymond  was  a  glorified  log-cabin,  differing  from 
its  humbler  kind  in  the  portico  of  cedar  trunks  and  cedar 
posts  which  propped  the  roof  of  its  wide  veranda.  The 
entrance  door  led  into  a  spacious  living-room  lined  with 
cedar  bark,  and  decorated  with  heads  of  moose,  deer,  bear 
and  wolves.  Bear-skins  were  strewn  as  rugs  on  the  polished 
oak,  and  rough-hewn  chairs  and  lounges  covered  with 
deerskin  were  furniture  in  keeping.  Over  an  open  hearth 
built  of  uncut  stone  two  long-barrelled  muskets  were  crossed 
above  a  mounted  salmon.  On  each  end  of  the  hearth  were 
racks  of  sporting  rifles  and  rods.  Facing  the  entrance 
under  the  timbered  ceiling  hung  a  birchbark  canoe,  under 
which  again  were  skins  of  marten,  lynx  and  beaver,  while 
opposite  the  fireplace  was  a  glass-doored  case  flanked  by 
painted  buffalo  robes  with  shields,  drums  and  baskets  evi- 
dently of  Indian  craft  and  giving  to  the  room  a  note  of 
barbaric  colour. 

The  bedroom  to  which  Charles  was  shown  was  also  lined 


282 


DRUMS  AFAR 


with  cedarbark,  the  bed  itself  being  a  wooden  box  filled 
with  cedar  boughs  closely  set  with  top  fronds  uppermost,  a 
couch  deliciously  soft  and  fragrant  with  forest  incense. 
Home-made  shelves  and  pegs  added  their  woodman's  note, 
though  a  half-open  door  revealed  the  more  sophisticated 
private  bath,  and  the  hanging  lantern  carried  electric  light. 

On  the  wall  facing  the  window  an  old  map  showed  the 
routes  of  exploration  taken  by  the  early  pioneers  and  fur- 
traders,  Nicolet,  Marquette,  Father  Hennepin  and  La  Salle. 
The  window  itself  looked  out  over  the  lake,  where  Charles 
could  see  a  boathouse  and  a  landing  stage  through  a  clearing 
in  the  trees. 

"Well,  how  do  you  find  Fort  Raymond?"  asked  his  host 
as  Charles  re-entered  the  hall. 

"It  reads  like  a  page  out  of  Fenimore  Cooper  brought  up 
to  date.    Where  do  you  keep  the  scalps?" 

"Mostly  in  Madeline's  cupboard,"  replied  Mr.  Raymond, 
placing  his  arm  affectionately  round  his  daughter's  waist. 
"She  is  quite  a  warrior.  Coming  down  to  animals,  some 
of  those  heads  are  her  trophies — for  instance  that  buck 
over  there  and  the  bearskin  at  your  feet — she's  a  dandy 
shot,  and  I  can  tell  you  I  missed  her  in  Europe  when  I  had 
to  go  hunting  all  by  my  lonesome.    How  about  you?" 

"Never  fired  a  shot,  and  have  not  fished  since  I  was 
a  boy,"  confessed  Charles.  Then  to  Madeline,  "You  never 
told  me  that  you  hunted." 

"You  never  asked,"  she  answered  merrily.  "I  never 
met  a  man  who  took  so  much  for  granted." 

"Well,  we  can  soon  mend  that,  can't  we,  Madeline?" 
said  Mr.  Raymond  heartily.  "I  tell  you,  Mr.  Fitzmorris, 
that  girl  of  mine  casts  a  prettier  fly  than  half  a  dozen 
men.  Give  her  a  five  '  nee  rod,  a  sunny  sky  not  too  near 
noon,  and  a  light  breeze,  and  she  will  raise  the  devil." 

"Go  easy.  Father,"  protested  the  lady,  blushing.  "You 
know  it  was  you  that  taught  me." 

"Well,  we'll  have  a  competition,  and  Mr.  Fitzmorris  can 
choose  his  teacher  from  the  two  of  us.  I'll  wager  a  hundred 
dollars  he  won't  choose  me." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


383 


The  words  though  spoken  blandly  sent  a  thrill  through 
Charles.  Had  Madeline  broached  their  affair?  Was  this 
a  hint? 

Passing  over  this  uncertain  ice,  he  raised  another  ques- 
tion. 

"You  surely  did  not  get  these  trophies  here  ?  Is  not  this 
country  too  closely  settled  for  hunting?" 

"Here!"  Mr.  Raymond  smiled.  "Not  by  a  long  chalk. 
Most  of  these  were  shot  in  Canada  or  Northern  Wisconsin 
— except  that  grizzly  from  Wyoming— though  fifty  years 
ago  we  could  get  all  the  game  we  wanted  twenty  miles 
from  this  very  spot,  and  a  hundred  years  ago  there  were 
more  wolves  than  humans  between  Geneva  Lake  and 
Chicago — this  was  Big  Foot  Lake  then,  an  Indian  camping 
ground.  My  great  grandfather  knew  them  well.  He 
trapped  here  till  he  settled  down  to  farm — a  voyageur — 
there  is  his  old  birchbark  canoe,  and  there  in  that  case  his 
wolfskin  casque  and  blanket  capot,  buckskin  shirt  and  leg- 
gings, ceinture,  mocassins,  snowshoes  and  axe.  Over  the 
fire-place  are  two  of  his  guns,  there  in  the  corner  is  my 
grandmother's  spinning  wheel — she  was  half  French,  half 
Huron. 

Charles  rose  from  his  chair  to  look  more  closely. 

"And  what  is  this,  may  I  ask?"  ^e  said,  pointing  to  a 
uniform  of  blue  jacket  with  bright  buttons,  light  blue  shirt, 
loose  red  pantaloons,  crimson  cap  and  drab  gaiters.  "It 
looks  almost  Zouave." 

"Zouave  it  was — Ellsworth's  Zouaves — days  of  the  Civil 
War— my  father  Henry  Raymond  fought  in  C  Company. 
See  that  hole  in  the  breast,  there's  where  he  was  wounded — 
that  made  a  wreck  out  of  a  strong  man.  Here  is  his  badge, 
a  gold  star  shield  with  a  tiger's  head  in  the  centre.  This 
daguerreotype  shows  how  he  looked — the  moustache  and 
goatee  were  worn  by  the  Zouaves.  You  can't  blame  him 
for  joining  them,  seeing  his  father  was  Canadian  French. 
Yes,  sir,  I  tell  you  he  was  a  man,  but  war  is  a  terrible 
thing,  and  the  strong  suffer  as  much  as,  perhaps  more, 
than  the  weak." 


284 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Alongside  the  Zouave  uniform  was  a  red  tunic  which  to 
Charles  looked  strangHy  British. 

"Rritish  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  "the  first  link  our 
family  had  with  your  folk." 

At  the  word  "first"  Charles  thrilled  again — was  this 
another  hint  ? 

"My  great  grandfather,"  continued  Mr.  Raymond,  "wore 
it  in  the  war  of  1814,  just  a  hundred  years  ago,  when 
Colonel  M'Kay  brought  down  his  Volunteers  and  Fencibles 
from  Mackinaw  and  captured  old  Fort  Crawford  close  to 
Prairie  du  Chien — eighty  miles  west  of  here — where  the 
Wisconsin  River  flows  into  the  Mississippi.  He  was  a  fur- 
trader,  the  Colonel,  a  Nor'Wester  from  Montreal,  and  his 
force  was  made  up  mostly  of  traders  and  clerks  and  voya- 
gcurs,  of  whom  Pierre  Raymond  was  one.  The  Colonel 
put  even  his  Indians  into  red  coats,  so  as  to  make  the 
Americans  think  he  had  a  large  body  of  regulars.  Pierre 
knew  the  trail,  for  he  had  trapped  and  hunted  here,  and 
so  too  his  father  and  grandfather  before.  Doggone  it,  I 
tell  you  we  have  some  ancestors." 

"Supper  is  ready,"  interrupted  Madeline.  "The  rest  of 
the  family  tree  can  wait." 

The  talk  at  supper  centred  largely  round  the  hunting  and 
fishing  trips  that  Madeline  had  taken  with  her  father.  They 
were  evidently  used  to  roughing  it,  and  were  still  children 
of  the  woods. 

"After  supper,"  said  Madeline  to  her  father,  "come  down 
to  the  lake  shore  and  let's  do  a  moose-call  for  Mr.  Fitz- 
morris.  Oh,  how  I  wish  that  September  were  here  so  that 
we  could  get  into  the  woods  again.  Charles  dear,  you 
and  I " 

She  stopped  with  a  blush,  realizing  that  she  had  betrayed 
herself.  Mrs.  Raymond  lifted  her  brows  with  an  air  of 
surprise,  but  made  no  comment.  Her  husband  looked  at 
Madeline  quizzically. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "we'll  go  down  to  the  lake,  and  then 
Charles  and  I  will  have  a  heart  to  heart  talk  under  the 
stars." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


285 


After  such  an  intimation  Charles  found  supper  a  trying 
ordeal.  What  would  be  the  decision?  Surely  it  was 
favourable.  Twice  Mr.  Raymond  had  already  thrown  out 
hints,  and  Madeline  was  comfortingly  self-jK^sscssed. 

They  had  been  late  in  starting,  so  it  was  dusk  when 
supper  ended  and  they  stepped  on  the  veranda.  Mr.  Ray- 
mond asked  them  to  wait  till  he  had  found  his  birchbark 
horn,  thus  giving  the  young  folk  a  minute  alone. 

"Don't  worry,"  said  Madeline  quickly,  catching  Charles's 
hand.  "I  lOld  him  everything  this  morning— he  is  not 
peeved,  but  said  he  would  not  say  yes  or  no  till  to-night.  I 
did  not  tell  Mother— that's  why  she  was  surprised— but 
it's  Father  that  counts.  Dear  old  boy!  Look  out,  here 
he  comes  again!" 

As  they  walked  down  the  path  towards  the  boat-house, 
Mr.  Raymond  whistled  softly  to  himself.  Then  looking 
at  the  sky  said, 

"Old  BuUmoose  is  still  on  the  ridges.  Shall  we  invite 
him  down — eh,  Madeline?" 

She  caught  him  eagerly  by  the  arm. 
"It's  all  up  to  you,  Father,"  she  said. 
In  a  minute  or  so  they  were  at  the  landing  stage,  and 
under  Mr.  Raymond's  direction  took   their   s^its  in  the 
row-boat  moored  alongside. 

"Now  imagine  yourself,"  he  said,  "hidden  the  brush 
at  the  edge  of  the  stream.  It  flows  slugtji^h  \wt,  and  tin- 
bank  on  the  other  side  is  the  edge  of  a  swar  Imag'  e 
it  is  a  cold,  frosty  morning — not  a  breath  of  «  ffle  Uie 

water  or  carry  our  scent.     Speak  low,  for  ^         >«    e  has 
sharp  ears.    Listen,  he  is  talking— it  sounds  lt»  'Ugh — 

he  has  a  cow  with  him.     Madeline,  you  give      c  call — I 
have  the  rifle." 

Madeline  took  the  horn,  held  it  close  to  her  :  dh  ;ind 
with  both  hands,  bent  her  head,  gave  out  a  defj  reath 
almost  like  a  sigh,  then  a  sort  of  grunt,  then  a  long  g  "iral, 
hollow  wooden  sound  like 

"\V~\V— Wa— a— a— augh" 


286 


DRUMS  AFAR 


After  a  minute  or  two  of  silence, 

"Hear  the  branches  cracking,"  whispered  Mr.  Raymond, 
"that's  the  bull  coming.  He  has  heard  and  is  travelling 
fast." 

Then  a  little  later, 

"He  is  watching  us  out  of  the  bush  there.  Don't  move. 
He  may  come  nearer.  Say,  there's  the  cow  whining  for 
him.    We  may  lose  him.    Give  him  another  call." 

Again  Madeline  gave  the  call;  then  dipped  the  horn  in 
the  water,  plopped  an  oar  so  as  to  imitate  the  sound  of  an 
animal  stepping  into  the  stream,  poured  water  from  the 
hoiu  as  if  it  were  drinking — all  so  realistically  that  with  his 
eyes  shut  Charles  could  have  pictured  it  so. 

Then  after  a  few  ninutes  more  of  tense  silence,  Mr. 
Raymond  said : 

"Nothing  doing.  He  has  gone  back  to  his  first  love. 
Don't  you  hear  him  in  the  bush  ?  And  now,  young  fellow," 
turning  round  on  Charles  with  exaggerated  sternness,  "what 
in  blazes  have  you  been  doing  with  my  daughter  ?" 

Charles,  however,  was  by  this  time  warned. 

"Rather  say,"  he  replied,  "what  has  your  daughter  been 
doing  with  me?  I  noticed  just  now  it  was  the  cowmoose 
that  made  the  call,  not  the  bull." 

Mr.  Raymond  looked  at  him  sharply,  then  at  his  daughter 
who  blushed,  then  laughed  heartily. 

"You  win!"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand.  "Let's  shake 
on  that.  She  certainly  knows  how  to  call.  Well.  I  can't 
expect  to  have  her  with  me  always — she  is  old  enough  to 
choose  her  own  mate.  You  are  an  Englishman,  but  that 
cuts  no  ice  with  me.  Lots  of  English  have  become  good 
Americans,  and  that's  what  Id  like  you  to  become  if  it  is 
at  all  possible.  This  is  the  country  where  Madeline  would 
be  happiest — something  of  the  city  and  not  too  far  from  the 
woods — room  to  breathe,  room  to  sing.  Eh,  Madeline, 
what  do  you  say  ?" 

"We'v«  talked  it  over,  Charles  and  I,"  she  answered, 
"but  not  very  much.  We've  seen  so  little  of  each  other 
since — since  we  came  to  an  understanding.    Charles  would 


DRUMS  AFAR 


287 


have  to  get  into  some  business    here.      I    mean    in    Chi- 


cago  

"Sure  he  would — I've  been  thinking  of  that  ever  since 
you  broke  the  news  this  morning.  What's  more,  I've  got 
the  dope — see  what  you  think  about  it.  Giarlesr— let's  drop 
the  Mr.  Fitzmorris— I've  been  sizing  you  up  ever  since  we 
met  at  that  concert  agent's  office.  You're  a  likely  young 
fellow  and  liable  to  make  good  whatever  you  put  your 
hand  to.  As  a  newspaper-man,  you  know  or  ought  to 
know  something  about  printing.  You  take  an  interest  in 
books,  fine  books.  Why  not  go  into  the  printing  business— 
with  the  Raymond  Printing  Company?" 

"Oh  Father,  how  lovely  of  you !"  cried  Madeline,  throw- 
ing her  arms  round  her  father's  neck  and  kissing  him. 

"Hold  on— don't  upset  the  boat,"  he  said,  disentangling 
himself,  "I've  not  finished  yet.  To  continue,  Charles,  I  can't 
make  you  a  vice-president  till  I  try  you  out— business  is 
not  like  marriage  where  you  only  find  out  things  when  it 
is  too  late.  But  I'll  give  you  a  fair  chance  along  lines  to 
which  you  are  suited.  I  propose  to  send  you  first  to  Har- 
vard, where  they  now  have  a  two-year  course  in  printing 
—they  turn  out  full-fledged  executives  If  you  pass  through 
that  course  satisfactorily,  you  are  worth  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars a  year  to  me  with  an  interest  in  the  firm  besides.  That's 
my  offer." 

"But  Father,"  said  Madeline  hesitatingly,  "does  that  mean 
that  we  may  not  msrry  for  two  years?" 

"Marry  any  doggoned  time  you  please,"  he  said.  "Let's 
go  and  tell  Mother." 

Airs.  Raymond  was  in  excellent  humour,  and  falsified 
any  fears  Madeline  had  of  trouble. 

"The  only  thing  that  worries  me,"  she  said,  "is  that 
Charles  is  going  to  make  me  his  mother-in-law,  whereas 
I  hoped  to  be  his  friend  for  life.  However  if  he  is  forgiv- 
ing, and  if  I  behave  myself,  we  may  get  along." 

That  night  as  Charles  thought  over  the  latest  phase,  he 
realized  the  almost  casual  way  in  which  his  suit  had  been 
pursued  and  accepted.     How    little    he    had   known    of 


288 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Madeline  when  first  he  fell  in  love  with  her!  How  little  he 
knew  of  her  still! — it  was  only  last  night  that  he  learned 
how  much  her  heart  was  in  the  woods.  Hitherto  he  had 
known  her  as  a  girl  with  a  rare  voice,  figure  and  face,  in- 
telligent and  good  company,  a  city  girl  with  rather  expensive 
taste  for  a  husband  of  uncertain  future,  ambitious  and 
self-sufficicntly  American.  It  was  the  voice  and  the  figure 
and  the  face  which  had  captured  him — the  rest  sometimes 
perturbed  his  insular  prejudice.  With  how  much  relief  he 
now  discovered  that  only  her  surface  was  city,  and  that 
she  preferred  a  camp-fire  to  an  arm-chair.  Love  brings 
the  most  sophisticated  back  to  nature,  and  now  he  found 
that  she  had  been  a  child  of  nature  all  the  time. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


THE  days  that  followed  were  dream  days  for  both 
Charles  and  Madeline.  They  were  young,  they 
were  in  love,  and  even  if  the  country  round  had 
not  been  Wisconsin,  most  romantic  and  beautiful 
of  States,  with  its  two  thousand  lakes,  its  rolling  hills,  its 
snug  farms  and  its  abundant  woods,  in  such  a  mood  they 
must  surely  have  found  it  beautiful.  Although  so  popular 
a  lake  as  Geneva  might  naturally  have  been  fished  out,  it 
had  been  so  well  restocked  that  an  hour  or  two  in  the  morn- 
ing usually  filled  the  basket.  The  roads  around  led  to 
innumerable  other  lakes,  and  Madeline  loved  nothing  so 
much  as  to  spin  out  in  the  car  with  Charles  and  a  lunch- 
basket  for  a  hundred  miles  or  so. 

Mr.  Raymond  went  each  week  day  by  train  to  Chicago, 
while  Mrs.  Raymond  seemed  to  think  the  house  needed 
all  her  attention.  The  Raymonds  had  many  friends  among 
the  neighbours,  and  with  tennis  and  dancing  the  afternoons 
and  evenings  sped  apace.  On  Sundays  Mr.  Raymond 
would  take  Charles  for  a  game  of  golf  at  the  Delavan 
Lake  Club,  half  a  dozen  miles  away.  The  more  Charles 
saw  of  his  future  father-in-law,  the  more  he  felt  attracted. 
The  rugged  strength  of  this  American — strength  of  charac- 
ter and  intellect — revealed  itself  in  many  ways.  The  burden 
of  his  father's  family  had  been  thrown  early  on  Henry 
Raymond's  shoulders,  but  by  diligence  and  enterprise  he 
had,  as  he  said,  "won  out." 

After  the  peace  which  handed  over  the  country  now 
known  as  Wisconsin  to  the  United  States,  great-grandfather 
Raymond  had  settled  down  under  the  new  flag  at  Prairie 
du  Chien  on  the  Eastern  bank  of  the  Mississippi.  Grand- 
father Raymond  found  some  neighbouring  acres  to  farm, 
and  as  the  village  blossomed  into  a  town  sent  half  his 

a89 


290 


DRUMS  AFAR 


numerous  family  to  earn  their  living  at  a  trade.  Henry 
Raymond's  father  earned  his  first  wage  as  a  messenger 
boy  for  the  local  Courier,  burned  to  be  a  printer,  ran  off 
to  Chicago  where  after  learning  to  set  type  he  borrowed 
capital  enough  to  start  his  own  shop  and  was  in  a  fair  way 
of  business  when  North  and  South  flew  suddenly  to  arms 
and  made  him  a  Zouave.  Wounded  and  somewhat  dis- 
illusioned he  had  with  difficulty  maintained  the  printing 
office  and  the  hungry  progeny  to  which  he  came  back  in 
Chicago.  Henry  Rajinond  Junior  when  eighteen  was  al- 
ready the  virtual  head  of  the  family  and  of  the  firm.  To 
steer  these  both  successfully  through  trouble  meant  many 
sacrifices — meant,  for  instance,  a  tardy  marriage  and  an 
only  daughter  instead  of  the  quiverful  he  would  have  liked 
— but  he  had  seen  his  father  die  contented,  had  educated 
his  half-dozen  brothers,  had  won  a  nlace  in  the  printing 
world,  and  had  found  such  interest  in  life  that  if  he  had 
to  live  it  again,  he  would  have  done  the  same. 

The  nature  of  his  calling  had  given  him  special  interest 
in  books,  and  he  read  as  well  as  printed.  The  knowledge 
of  his  French  descent  had  turned  his  mind  to  the  adventur- 
ous pioneers  who  came  to  found  a  New  France  in  this 
Western  World,  and  on  the  fishing  and  hunting  trips  which 
were  his  favourite  vacations  he  had  covered  the  rivers  and 
lakes  and  trails  and  portages  from  the  far  waters  of  the 
Ottawa  to  the  "wide  and  rapid  current"  of  the  Mississippi. 
So  far  from  being  unlettered,  he  knew  as  much  of  Colbert 
and  of  the  great  Louis  of  France  as  Charles  himself  had 
ever  read  at  Oxford. 

They  talked  of  history  and  focused  unconsciously  on 
links  with  Europe.  La  Salle  and  Nicolet  and  Joliet  and 
the  sweet-natured  Jesuit  Marquette  all  pointed  with  their 
dead  fingers  to  the  St.  Lawrei'ce  and  to  the  designs  of  Louis 
for  world  dominion.  La  Salle  was  the  emissary  of  Count 
Frontenac  and  he  in  turn  of  Versailles. 

"You  can't  cut  yourself  off  from  Europe,"  said  Charles 
tu  Mr.  Raymond.  "The  same  thing  is  happening  to-day 
that  happened  over  two  hundred  years  ago.    Now  however 


DRUMS  AFAR 


291 


it  is  the  Hohenzollern  who  would  rq)!ace  the  Bourbon,  and 
dominate  both  the  New  World  and  the  (M.  You  think 
it  is  the  Old  World  he  has  in  mind,  but  the  five  hundred 
thousand  Germans  in  Chicago  would  come  in  ver>'  handy  if 
he  had  designs  upon  the  New,  and  perhaps,  tw.  like  the 
Bourbon  he  will  come  down  on  the  Middle  West  by  the  way 
of  the  St.  Lawrence.  Remember  that,  in  the  days  of  Louis, 
half  the  French  Canadians  were  exiles  from  France,  yet 
they  served  his  purpose  very  well." 

Two  days  after  the  Raymonds  arrived  at  Lake  Geneva, 
Great  Britain  had  broken  off  with  Germany,  and  Charles, 
remembering  his  father,  once  more  had  drawn  up  a  cable 
of  inquiry.  Then  when  Kitchener  asked  for  an  army  of 
five  hundred  thousand,  he  tore  the  cable  up. 

"Only  half  a  million,"  he  thought.  'It  can't  be  so  serious 
after  all." 

Then  as  the  first  wild  rumours  of  British  naval  victories 
faded  into  the  ominous  advance  of  the  Germans  over  Bel- 
gium into  France,  and  the  not  too  friendly  comments  of 
the  Chicago  papers  reminded  him  that  an  Englishman  was 
here  an  alien,  his  peace  of  mind  diminished. 

Softened,  however,  by  the  dalliance  of  love.  Charles  for- 
got by  noon  the  pricks  of  the  morning's  conscience,  and  only 
in  night's  broken  slumbers  woke  to  the  thoufjht  that  there 
might  yet  be  an  imperative  call  from  England.  To  one 
so  intimate  with  European  politics,  the  stakes  at  issue 
loomed  larger  than  to  the  gay  society  of  Lake  Geneva. 
Most  of  these  Americans  thought  of  the  war  only  as  an 
inconvenience  for  friends  caught  travelling  abroad.  That 
Mrs.  Peter  Patterson  had  lost  three  Saratogas  at  the  frontier 
and  had  travelled  from  Carlsbad  to  Paris  with  nothing  but 
her  pet  canarj'  was  of  more  interest  than  any  Belgian  hor- 
rors or  the  slaughter  of  ten  thousand  soldiers,  ^'et  one 
note  of  reality  was  struck  by  a  neighbour  who  told  them 
as  they  smtjked  on  the  veranda  what  he  had  seen  in  the 
first  days  of  August  at  Calgary,  a  Western  Canadian  prairie 
city. 

"I  tell  you,  boys."  he  said  to  Charles  and  Mr.  Raymond, 


292 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"we've  got  to  take  our  hats  off  to  those  fellows  up  north 
over  the  border.  We  sit  here  counting  the  dollars  we  mean 
f^  make  out  of  this  war,  but  every  time  I  sell  a  car-load  of 
aoar  I  think  of  those  strapping  fellows  I  saw  ride  in  from 
the  prairies — men  who  without  waiting  for  die  call  had 
locked  the  front  door  of  the  ranch  or  farm  and  were 
hoofing  it  for  the  recruiting  office. 

"I  had  been  out  inspecting  a  section  of  land  and  on  the 
way  back  overtook  one  of  these  on  his  cayuse  beating  it 
along  the  trail  to  Calgary.  'That's  Bill  Matson,'  said  the 
real  estate  man  who  was  driving  me.  'He  owns  that  section 
of  wheat  we  saw  ten  miles  back— ought  to  get  thirty  bushels 
to  the  acre.  'Hullo  Bill,'  he  called  as  we  passed  by,  'how's 
the  crops?'  'To  hell  with  the  crops,'  said  Bill.  'Why  Bill, 
they  looked  pretty  good  to  me,'  said  my  friend.  'There  ain't 
nothin'  wrong  with  the  crops,'  .said  Bill,  'but  I've  quit 
farming.  Got  any  parcels  for  Berlin?'  Just  think  of 
that,  and  it  was  dollar  wheat ! 

"When  we  got  back  to  Calgary— it  was  the  evening  of 
Monday  the  third— we  could  see  that  something  was  in  the 
wind.  The  streets  were  chock-a-block  in  front  of  a  news- 
paper office  where  a  fellow  was  megaphoning  bulletins. 
'Has  England  declared  for  war?'  I  asked  of  a  policeman. 
•Not  yet,'  he  replied.  'When  she  does,  I'm  going.'  'What  if 
England  doesn't?'  I  said.  'Then,  by  God,  I'm  done  with 
her,'  he  replied. 

"We  had  a  bit  of  something  to  eat  at  the  hotel,  and  then 
went  back  to  see  the  crowd.  They  were  singing  and  cheer- 
ing to  beat  the  band— now  it  was  the  'Boys  of  the  Old 
Brigade'  or  'Soldiers  of  the  King,'  and  now  'Rule  Britannia' 
and  then  some  one  struck  up  'Nearer  my  God  to  Thee.'  I 
guess  they  remembered  the  Titanic.  Then  some  one  called 
for  the  'Marseillaise,'  and  though  nobody  knew  the  words 
they  all  sang  the  tune.  I  didn't  see  why  Uncle  Sam  should 
be  left  out,  so  I  sang  out  'The  Boys  in  Blue  are  Marching.' 
and  would  you  believe  it,  they  took  it  up  like  as  if  it  were 
their  own.  The  American  boys  there  are  in  it  with  the 
Canadians  and  British.    Some  one  threw  slides  of  portraits 


DRUMS  AFAR 


393 


i 


and  cartoons  and  battleships  on  a  screen,  and  fellows  would 
get  up  to  make  speeches,  everyl)ody  cheering  till  it  was  mid- 
night, when  they  broke  up  and  went  home. 

"Next  day  the  whole  of  that  dinky  little  city  was  plumb 
crazy  with  war  fever.  'Why  don't  England  declare?'  they 
kept  asking.  The  men  were  lined  up  waiting  to  be  enrolled. 
We  saw  Bill  Matson  come  out  of  the  office,  you  never  saw 
a  man  so  happy.  They  say  eight  hundred  men  put  down 
their  names  that  day,  or  at  the  rate  of  a  man  a  minute. 
They  came  rolling  in  like  Bill  on  their  cayuses,  or  in  auto- 
mobiles or  from  the  depot — Old  Countrymen,  mostly,  judg- 
ing by  the  accents,  and  not  all  young  by  a  long  chalk. 
There  were  grey-haired  fellows  alongside  of  the  young 
bucks,  and  I  guess  there  were  some  fine  homes  broken  up 
that  day. 

"At  night  the  same  old  crowd  collected,  only  worse. 
Ever}'  one  knew  then  that  Sir  Edward  Grey  had  toed  the 
mark,  and  King  George  had  sent  the  British  Fleet  after  the 
Germans.  The  traffic  was  blocked,  and  the  street  cars  side- 
tracked the  newspa[)er  office.  There  were  people  sitting 
on  the  roofs  and  on  the  window  sills,  listening  to  the  bulle- 
tins. Gee,  what  a  scene !  Hats  were  flying,  and  the  crowd 
was  swaying  this  way  and  that,  singing  and  cheering,  till 
some  one  started  'God  save  the  King.'  That  brought  them 
up  all  together.  So  till  midnight,  when  word  went  round 
that  the  first  contingent  of  naval  reservists  was  leaving  for 
the  Coa3t  right  away.  Off  they  swept  to  the  depot  where 
they  found  the  men  waiting  for  the  westbound  transconti- 
nental. Never  in  my  life  have  I  seen  anythinj,  to  beat  that 
send  off.  They  put  the  Jackies  into  baggage  trucks  and 
paraded  them  up  and  down  the  platforms  to  an  orchestra 
of  flutes,  whistles,  bugles,  mouth-organs,  drums,  tin  cans 
and  bagpipes.  If  noise  would  do  it,  Britannia  would  rule 
the  waves  to  the  end  of  time  after  that  night. 

"What  beats  me  is  that  thec^^e  fellows  were  five  thousand 
miles  away  from  London,  and  this  v/ar  need  not  mean 
anything  to  them.    Are  they  right,  and  are  we  asleep  ?" 

So  this  was  the  Canada  that  Cnaries  had  hitherto  sneered 


294 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 


at !  He  flushed  at  the  thought  of  his  former  attitude.  These 
Canadians  were  rolling  up  to  the  flag  without  even  waiting 
for  the  call.  What  was  he  doing?  "Most  of  them  were 
Old  Countrymen,"  What  was  he  but  an  Old  Countryman  ? 
They  were  leaving  the  ranch  and  the  farm — with  wheat 
at  a  dollar  the  bushel.    What  would  he  leave  ? 

His  eyes  turned  on  Medeline  who  at  that  moment  joined 
them  on  the  veranda,  and  his  heart  fell. 

Next  day  during  a  tete-d-tcte  he  confessed  to  her  his 
misgivings. 

"It  is  not  as  if  I  were  of  no  particular  use,"  he  said.  "I 
know  the  country  where  the  fighting  is,  both  in  Alsace  and 
on  the  northern  front.    I  speak  both  French  and  German. 

I  am  young  and  strong  and  have  no  encumbrances " 

"None?"  she  interjected,  putting  her  arm  round  his  neck 
appealingly.  "What  about  me?  Do  I  not  count?  Don't 
think  of  it,  Charles — you  are  well  out  of  it — you  have 
your  father's  word  for  it  that  you  are  not  wanted.  There 
must  be  hundreds  of  British  officers  who  have  studied  the 
country  far  more  carefully  than  you." 

"You  don't  know  the  British  officer,"  replied  Charles 
grimly.    "This  is  war,  not  cricket." 

Nevertheless  he  yielded  to  her  kisses,  and  said  no  more 
about  it,  though  more  and  more  insistent  grew  his  doubts 
and  the  tribulation  which  disturbed  his  spirit.  Whether  or 
not  Madeline  realized  the  depth  of  the  unrest  that  inflamed 
Charles's  heart,  she  became  more  eager  than  ever  to  find 
new  entertainment,  to  plan  new  trips,  to  keep  his  thoughts 
occupied  with  the  new  country  in  which  he  had  come  to 
live. 

"We  must  take  Charles  on  a  hunting  trip  this  Fall,"  she 
urged  her  father.  "He  must  learn  the  way  of  the  woods, 
how  to  put  up  a  lean-to,  and  make  a  camp-fire,  and  toss  a 
flapjack,  and  be  happy  on  pork  and  beans.  Write  to  Harry 
Allen  and  tell  him  to  book  three  record  heads  for  this  little 
party." 

"Harry  would  be  tickled  to  death,"  replied  Mr.  Raymond, 
"but  I  have  my  eye  this  Fall  on  Nova  Scotia  rather  than 


DRUMS  AFAR 


295 


New  Brunswick.  Harry  has  been  with  me  these  last  three 
seasons,  and  will  forgive  me  if  I  make  a  change.  We'll 
get  the  tail  end  of  the  fishing  if  we  go  when  the  hunting 
season  opens,  and  can  take  in  Montreal  on  the  way  to 
show  our  friend  where  the  family  comes  from." 

"Don't  you  have  any  more  hunting  in  your  own  United 
States  ?"  asked  Charles,  "or  why  do  you  always  seem  to  go 
to  Canada?" 

"Not  much  in  the  way  of  the  big  game  here,  except  for 
deer,"  replied  Mr.  Ra>Tnond,  "now  that  the  country  is  so 
settled.  We  might  go  to  Maine  and  shoot  a  guide  or  two, 
but  I  have  a  hatred  for  homicide,  however  accidental.  No, 
give  me  the  Canadian  woods,  where  the  frosty  nights  come 
early  and  your  camp  is  twenty  miles  from  any  other,  rind  the 
guides  are  out  for  game,  not  suckers.  Gee  whiz,  Charles, 
I  thought  you  would  as  a  Britisher  prefer  to  see  something 
of  your  Canuck  cousins." 

"I  know  I  should,"  replied  Charles,  "but  somehow  I 
never  curried  to  relations.  But  this  would  certainly  be  a 
great  experience,  and  I  should  love  to  go  with  you." 

In  the  meanwhile,  Madeline  made  her  father  take  them 
for  a  week-end  to  Waukesha,  where  they  spent  a  night  at 
the  Resthaven,  most  luxurious  of  Spas.  Too  late  she 
realized  her  error  when  they  found  it  overrun  with  Ger- 
mans from  Milwaukee  and  JefiFerson  loud  in  their  declara- 
tions that  Germany  must  win. 

At  Oconowoc  whither  they  escaped,  it  was  still  more 
noisily  Teutonic,  and  they  were  all  glad  to  take  the  road 
again  into  a  less  guttural  air.  Even  on  the  road  it  seemed 
impossible  to  get  away  from  Europe.  When  they  left 
Waukesha  they  had  passed  a  Little  Italy  of  concertina 
players,  workers  at  the  limestone  quarries.  Then  Water- 
town,  half  way  to  Madison,  might  very  well  have  dropped 
out  of  German  clouds  overrun,  moreover,  as  it  was  with 
geese,  just  as  the  roads  that  Charles  and  Madeline  had 
motored  over  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Strasburg. 

After  all.  he  was  safest  at  Fort  Irayrnond. 

It  may  have  been  an  instinct  that  she  was  in  danger  of 


296 


DRUMS  AI-AR 


losing  Cliarlcs  which  made  Madeline  declare  for  a  short 
engagement. 

"We  can  be  married  r.fter  Christmas,"  she  said.  "That 
will  give  me  time  to  get  ready  my  trous.seau,  and  of  course 
I  must  sing  at  the  Thomas  Concerts.  We  shall  have  a 
lovely  time  at  Boston — it  is  almost  as  good  for  music  as 
Chicago." 

Mr.  Raymond  outlined  his  plans  for  the  years  that  were 
to  follow. 

"By  the  time  you  have  finished  your  two-year  course, 
you  should  be  prety  well  posted  on  the  methods  of  running 
a  printing  office  such  as  ours.  I  myself  have  to  spend  too 
much  time  on  detail  to  keep  up  to  date,  and  if  all  they  say 
about  this  Harvard  course  is  true  you  will  be  mighty  valu- 
able. But  in  Chicago  itself  half  the  business  is  done  in  the 
Club,  so  you  must  join  the  University  Club  and  use  it  as 
your  outside  office  just  as  I  use  the  Chicago  Athletic.  You 
must  cash  in  on  your  Oxford  degree.  That  will  carry  you 
into  circles  beyond  me,  and  should  be  worth  five  thousand 
dollars  a  year  to  a  firm  like  ours.  I  will  pay  you  this  salary 
till  you  care  to  earn  it  in  the  orders  you  bring  in.  Madeline 
herself  will  have  five  thousand  in  her  own  right,  so  with 
that  and  your  own  English  income,  if  you  have  any,  you 
should  be  able  to  pay  the  rent." 

Charles  was  startled  at  this  material  view  of  the  Oxford 
hall-mark,  but  after  all  Mr.  Raymond  was  a  better  judge 
than  he  was  of  American  values.  The  main  thing  was  that 
it  was  being  made  easy  for  him  to  marry  the  girl  he  loved. 

"The  sooner  I  get  to  know  your  office,  the  better,"  he 
said.    "Don't  you  think  I  should  start  at  once?" 

Mr.  Raymond  was  pleased  at  the  suggestion,  but  Madeline 
said  no. 

"I  know  what  it  will  be  once  Charles  gets  into  your 
clutches,"  she  declared.  "Perhaps  then  I  may  see  him  once 
a  week  apart  from  breakfast,  spending  the  rest  of  the  time 
thinking  up  dinners  which  he  won't  have  time  to  come 
home  for.  He  will  be  just  as  bad  as  you.  Father,  if  not 
worse.    No,  Charles  is  mine  just  now,  and  I  can't  spare 


DRUMS  AFAR 


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him.    You  can't  have  him  till  we  arc  marrict!  and  till  he 
has  done  with  Harvard." 

Mr.  Raymond  laughed. 

"Very  well  then.  But  you  must  give  him  a  day  off  now 
and  again,  otherwise  he  will  have  too  much  of  you.  He 
hasn't  even  seen  the  office  or  the  plant." 

She  compromised  by  letting  him  go  with  her  father  twice 
to  Chicago.  But  each  time  he  stepped  into  the  train,  she 
was  filled  with  a  nameless  dread.  When  he  came  back, 
and  they  had  a  few  minutes  alone,  she  assured  herself  by 
the  warmth  of  the  kisses  she  could  so  easily  entice  that  he 
was  still  safely  hers.  There  was  no  spell,  she  found,  more 
potent  than  her  voire.  When  the  elder  folk  went  out  on 
anv  pretext— and  in  this  respect  they  were  good-natured- 
she  would  sing  to  Charles,  getting  him  to  sit  beside  her, 
with  his  arm  round  her,  his  cheek  upon  her  shoukler. 

Each  time,  however,  that  he  returned,  he  had  brought 
tack  maps  and  the  war  books  rushed  out  by  so  many  pub- 
lishers. The  light  burned  late  in  his  bedroom,  and  she 
knew  that  he  was  poring  over  the  routes  of  the  great  armies 
overseas.  From  her  own  bay  window  she  could  see  the 
shadow  of  his  bent  head  silhouetted  on  his  blind,  and  darker 
grew  the  shadow  which  threatened  to  blot  out  her  new- 
found happiness. 


CHAPTER  XXX 


THE  last  visit  that  he  made  to  Chicago  a  few  days 
before  they  left  for  the  hunting  trip  seemed  to 
have  made  some  deep  impression  on  Charles.  He 
looked  so  unhappy  that  Madeline  began  to  be 
alarmed. 

"Let's  go  out  for  a  stroll,"  she  said,  and  as  soon  as  she 
had  him  safely  to  herself,  slipped  her  arm  into  his  and 
asked  him  what  was  the  matter. 

"Nothing,  except  a  letter  that  Viola  read  to  me,"  he 
answered.  "Frank  has  joined  the  army — as  a  private- 
Kitchener's  Army.  If  what  he  says  is  true,  the  first  army 
sent  to  France  has  been  to  all  intents  and  purposes  wiped 
out  as  a  fighting  force — they  can  only  hold  the  lines  till  a 
new  force  comes  along,  and  that  new  force  must  be  on  a 
European,  not  a  British  scale." 

"What  does  that  mean  ?" 

"A  million  where  we  used  to  have  a  hundred  thousand. 
It  means,  he  thinks,  conscription — the  voluntary  system  is 
played  out." 

"He  must  be  exaggerating,"  she  exclaimed. 

"He  gives  as  his  authority  a  man  I  know — a  military 
writer  of  the  first  rank — now  more  or  less  attached  to  the 
Censor's  office.  If  what  Frank  says  is  true,  I  have  no  right 
to  be  here." 

"It  is  not  true,  it  can't  be  true,"  she  urged  passionately. 
"You  have  only  to  read  the  papers  to  see  the  Germans  are 
retreating— the  worst  is  over  now.  Charles,  don't  be 
foolish.  His  letter  must  be  at  least  a  fortnight  old — even 
I  can  see  that  things  have  changed  since  then." 

"Things  have  changed,  perhaps;  but  Chicago  has  not," 
he  answered.  "One  could  hardly  tell  there  that  the  greatest 
war  of  the  last  hundred  years  is  being  waged.    The  same 

298 


DRUMS  AFAR 


299 


luxurious  life,  careless  and  spendthrift,  as  before.  More 
interest  in  baseball  than  in  Belgium.  I  went  into  the  Art 
Institute  and  saw  what  seemed  to  mc  the  comment  of 
Europe  on  America.  On  the  main  staircase  there  were  two 
statues  opposite  each  other.  One  was  Chapu's  Joan  of 
Arc,  her  hands  clasped  in  serene  faith,  as  it  were  the 
spirit  of  France  trusting  in  her  cause  and  praying  for  vic- 
tory. On  the  other  was  Houdin's  statue  of  Voltaire,  looking 
down  the  marble  steps  towards  Michigan  Avenue,  a  sar- 
donic smile  upon  his  face,  as  if  he  gauged  the  indifference 
of  that  crowd." 

She  felt  he  was  in  no  mood  to  argue,  and  therefore  used 
her  woman's  weapons — her  beauty,  her  charm — not  ob- 
trusively but  with  effect,  so  that  as  they  stood  there  after 
a  while  heek  to  cheek  and  breast  to  breast,  his  senses 
swam  vt  the  magic  of  her  love,  and  the  clash  of  arms  in 
Europe  w^s  again  four  thousand  mil^-  away 

Chicago,  she  could  see  now,  wab  'nngerpoint,  and 

with  a  lightening  heart  she  saw  the  day  a^  jach  on  which 
they  were  to  set  out  for  Nova  Scotia.  The  day  before  their 
departure  was  busy  with  preparation — picking  out  and  ar 
ranging  flies  and  tackle,  cleaning  rifles,  packing  and  repack 
ing  kitbags.  It  had  meant  a  new  outfit  for  Charles,  who 
came  unprepared  for  such  a  venture,  but  under  Madeline's 
hands  everything  went  into  wonderfully  small  space. 

"We  shall  each  have  a  guide,"  she  sal  i,  "but  we  want  to 
keep  the  guides  our  friends,  and  so  h; '  e  everything  just 
right  to  carry." 

That  night  a  letter  came  to  Charles  from  England,  the 
first  he  had  received.  So  terrified  was  Madeline  lest  this 
might  mean  his  summons  that  she  had  almost  hidden  it 
away  before  he  knew  it  had  come.  Downing  the  tempta- 
tion, she  gavt  it  to  him  herself,  slipping  out  on  to  the 
veranda  in  the  hope  that  he  would  follow  her  and  tell  her 
quickly. 

She  had  not  long  to  wait.  It  was  a  letter  from  his  father. 
With  beating  heart  she  read  it: 


300 


DRUMS  AFAR 


H 


'i  I 


"My  pkar  ("iiarM':s, 

"You  will  have  received  my  two  cables — indeed  you 
mention  them— in  answer  to  your  inquiries.  I  would  have 
written  to  you  l>efore  this,  hut  have  been  so  busy  on  my 
new  job.  The  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  has  comman- 
deered me,  I  am  glad  to  say  at  a  good  salary,  and  I  ani 
spending  valuable  hours  fighting  the  red  tape  which  seems 
to  strangle  every  Government  office.  The  closing  of  the 
Stock  Exchr.nge  has  therefore  left  me  untouched— indeed 
I  foresaw  and  recommended  the  procedure.  Soon  after  you 
left  I  found  the  secret  of  Berlin,  and  played  my  cards  ac- 
cordingly. 

"This  war  has  made  an  astonishing  change  '-  tNe  Fitz- 
morris  regime.  Joyce  is  immersed  in  Ambulanc  lectures 
and  a  Red  Cross  manua'  determined  to  be  a  nurse.  Your 
mother  has  sold  her  Consc  and  bought  a  house  in  Surrey, 
which  she  means  to  make  a  convalescent  home  for  officers 
— this,  I  f'^ar,  will  be  a  long  war.  It  was  impetuous,  I  said 
to  her,  but,  damn  it,  I  honour  her  for  doing  it.  Clara's 
husband,  the  little  fellow  whom  you  and  I  thought  such  a 
rat,  has  applied  for,  and  through  his  influence  will  no  doubt 
get  a  commission.  To  tell  the  truth,  it  was  Qara  who  made 
him  do  it,  partly  no  doubt  from  patriotism,  but  partly,  be- 
tween you  and  me  and  the  gate-post,  because  she  was  tired 
of  having  a  man  about  the  house  all  day  doing  nothing. 
I  have  put  up  our  Richmond  house  for  sale.  We  shan't 
get  much  for  it  in  these  days,  but  better  a  little  cash  than  a 
large  white  elephant. 

"Well,  I  suppose  you  are  a  fixture  now  in  Chicago.  Your 
latest  letter  tells  of  the  engagement — by  Jove,  I  should  have 
begun  with  congratulations,  but  you  see  the  world  is  topsy 
turvy.  Well,  dear  boy,  I  am  glad  you  have  found  a  nice 
girl  and  a  congenial  father-in-law.  Of  course  I  remember 
her  concert — how  could  I  forget  so  beautiful  a  voice,  so 
sv.cct  a  figure ?    Kiss  her  from  me,  and  kiss  her  warmly. 

"I  don't  know  whether  you  have  got  so  far  as  to  talk 
of  settlements.  I  should  prefer  to  wait,  as  this  is  no  time 
to  send  money  out  of  the  country — England  will  need  every 


DRUMS  AFAR 


301 


sovereign  she  can  get — but  if  Mr.  Raymond  asks  his  bank- 
ers to  write  to  mine,  I  think  he  will  be  satisfied. 

"Love  from  your  mother,  who  says  she  will  write  next 
week,  and  who  asks  why  you  did  not  send  a  photograph  of 
the  fair  Madeline. 

"Your  loving 

"F.\TIIER." 


"You  see,"  she  said  triumphantly  when  she  had  finished, 
"he  does  not  say  a  word  about  your  going  back.  He  ex- 
pects you  to  stay.    .How  glad  I  am — aren't  you,  Charles?" 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Charles,  and  kissed  her. 

But  all  the  while  he  felt  the  shadow  falling,  falling. 

They  left  Chicago  on  the  following  evening,  meaning  to 
break  the  journey  twenty-four  hours  later  at  Montreal. 
Mrs.  Raymond  stayed  on  at  Lake  Geneva.  She  said  she  had 
had  enough  of  travel. 

The  observation  car  was  somewhat  crowded,  so  Charles 
and  Mr.  Raymond  went  back  to  the  smoking  room  of  their 
own  car.  Here  it  did  not  take  long  to  fall  into  conversa- 
tion with  a  fellow-traveller,  evidently  fascinated  with  the 
sound  of  his  strident  voice,  "travelling"  he  said,  "in 
caskets." 

This  cheerful  occupation, — for  caskets,  as  Charles  dis- 
covered, was  the  American  for  coffins — entitled  him,  as  an 
authority  on  funerals,  to  pose  also  as  an  authority  on  war. 

"What  you  reading  that  paper  for?"  he  remarked  to 
Charles.    "Papers  is  all  lies." 

"Is  that  so  ?"  answered  Charles  with  a  smile. 

"Sure  thing,"  replied  t  e  other.  "There's  nothing  to 
this  war.  Not  till  Uncle  1  am  gets  in,  and  then  we'll  show 
'em  something." 

Charles  lifted  his  eyebrows. 

"Any  sign  of  Uncle  Sam?"  he  said. 

The  other  grunted.    This  was  evidently  an  Englishman. 

"I  tell  you,  we're  on  the  job,"  he  continued.  "But  as  for 
them  correspondents,  I  ain't  got  no  use  for  them.     They 


302 


DRUMS  AFAR 


hi ,' 
hi 


i  1 


can't  tell  me  anything  I  don't  know.    There's  nothing  in 
them  noospapers.    1  don't  read  nothing  now." 

"Judging  from  your  speech,"  thought  Charles,  "that  is 
highly  probable."  But  as  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained 
by  argument,  he  let  the  other  run  on  till  the  porter  signalled 
that  his  berth  was  ready. 

Next  morning  they  woke  up  in  Canada,  and  Charles  with 
some  curiosity  kept  looking  out  of  the  window  as  they  sat 
at  breakfast. 

"What  are  you  looking  for?"  asked  Mr.  Raymond. 

"To  see  if  there  is  anything  distinctive  about  the  British 
Empire,"  he  replied. 

"There's  really  very  little  difference  from  across  the 
line,"  said  Mr.  Raymond.  "This  is  Ontario,  but  for  all 
the  world  it's  just  like  Michigan,  only  perhaps  a  little 
slower.  The  people  here  don't  seem  to  have  such  pep- 
take  life  more  easily.  We  don't  find  any  French-Canadians 
till  we  get  to  Montreal." 

"Do  they  have  pep?"  asked  Charles. 

"Not  as  a  rule  till  they  become  Americans.  Not  that  pep 
is  everything.  They  are  much  happier  than  we  are.  We 
Americans  are  not  a  happy  people.  We  are  merely  suc- 
cessful." 

Although  the  train  itself  seemed  to  be  very  much  the 
same  as  it  was  when  they  left  Chicago,  the  talk  in  the  obser- 
vation car  was  more  subdued,  their  fellow  travellers  in 
Canada  were  more  reserved,  the  atmosphere  not  English 
but  less  American.  The  traveller  in  caskets  and  his  kind 
seemed  to  have  disappeared.  At  the  stations  where  they 
stopped  to  change  engines,  there  was  little  evidence  of  war, 
this  being  as  Charles  found  because  the  soldiers  for  the 
front  had  all  gone  forward  to  Valcartier.  As  soon,  how- 
evei,  as  any  lady  passenger  got  on,  she  opened  her  little  bag 
and  commenced  to  knit— socks,  no  doubt,  for  the  Red  Cross. 

From  the  Toronto  papers  Charles  could  see  the  intense 
interest  taken  by  these  quieter  people  in  the  war.  They 
quoted  from  American  comments  as  well  as  English.  There 
was  evidently  controversy  as  to  the  proportion  of  native- 


DRUMS  AFAR 


303 


bom  and  English-bom  Canadians  who  had  enlisted.  The 
Government  was  being  urged  to  prepare  a  Second  Expe- 
ditionary Force— it  was  not  clear  whether  the  First  had 
actually  sailed. 

The  train  passed  along  the  shore  of  Lake  Ontano,  and 
as  the  first  frosts  had  already  touched  the  maple  and  the 
birch,  they  saw  those  shining  and  romantic  waters  through 
a  fringe  of  green  and  scarlet  and  gold. 


li 


i ' 


i 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

AT  Montreal  neat  porters  in  grey  uniforms  with  red 
caps  took  their  handbags,  and  from  the  long  low- 
roofed  train-sheds  they  passed  into  a  light  airy  hall 
in  which  French  eemed  to  be  spoken  almost  as 
much  as  English.  Dusk  ..  as  gathering,  so  without  further 
delay  they  drove  off  to  the  Windsor.  It  was  only  a  short 
drive,  but  even  that  left  a  pleasant  impression  of  great  trees 
in  a  spacious  square. 

Madeline  excused  herself  from  dinner  on  the  plea  of  a 
headache,  so  that  the  two  men  dined  alone.  Before  joining 
Mr.  Raymond  in  the  hotel  restaurant,  Charles  descended 
to  the  barber's  for  a  shave,  not  having  been  very  happy 
with  his  razor  on  the  train.  The  rotunda  and  the  passages 
ot  the  hotel  were  thronged  with  men  evidently  under  some 
excitement,  and  in  the  barber's  shop  itself  there  was  a  buzz 
of  talk  suggestive  of  something  unusual.  Every  barber 
was  busy,  and  there  were  half  a  dozen  men  waiting  for 
their  turn. 

"Hello,  Bill,"  said  one  of  these  to  another,  "where  have 
you  been  hiding?    I've  a  search-warrant  for  you." 

"New  York." 

"Why  the  hell  New  York  when  we  wanted  you  here?  I 
had  you  booked  for  mv  team  and  you  never  showed  up." 

"Business " 

"Cut  it  out— your  job  was  on  this  Campaign.  These  fel- 
lows going  to  the  front  did  not  think  of  business,  and  we've 
got  to  look  after  their  wives  and  children.  You're  coming 
to  the  dinner  to-night  ?" 

"It's  not  too  late?" 

"Never  too  late — get  into  the  game.  Have  you  filled  in 
your  pledge  ?   Well,  do  it  now— here's  a  pen." 

"How  much?" 


i  ! 


DRUMS  AFAR 


305 


"Five  hundred  dollars  for  you." 

"Five  hun ?" 

"Yes,  come  across." 

The  other  hesitated  but  signed  his  pledge  as  directed. 

"What's  the  excitement?"  asked  Charles  of  the  barber 
who  at  last  took  him  in  hand. 

"Last  night  of  the  Patriotic  Fund  Campaign,  Sir.  They 
are  out  to  raise  a  million  dollars — we're  all  giving  some- 
thing. Dinner  in  the  Rose  Room,  sir — all  Montreal  will  be 
there," 

Mr.  Raymond  had  agreed  to  wait  in  the  rotunda,  but  it 
was  quite  a  problem  to  find  him. 

"Thought  at  first  it  was  a  Convention,"  he  said  as  they 
met,  "but  it's  a  local  stunt.  Tickets  for  the  dinner  all 
sold,  but  they  say  we  can  get  in  to  hear  the  speeches." 

J  general  dining  room  was  next  to  the  Rose  Room, 
and  through  the  partition  they  could  hear  the  hubbub — 
subdued  at  first,  then  an  outburst  of  cheering  as  if  to 
greet  some  speaker.  The  unrest  which  had  taken  hold  of 
Charles  increased  with  curiosity  and  he  paid  scant  atten- 
tion to  the  elaborate  menu  selected  by  Mr.  Raymond.  There 
were  Malpccque  oysters — salty  of  the  sea  and  very  delicious 
—slices  of  a  huge  local  melon,  pea-soup  as  the  habitants 
made  it,  Gaspe  salmon,  and,  by  Jinks,  moosesteak!  But 
Charles  could  not  enthuse.  He  wanted  to  see  what  was 
happenmg  next  door,  learn  what  this  Patriotic  Fund  was 
and  why  these  Canadians  should  get  so  excited  about  it. 

"I  see  you  want  to  be  with  the  crowd,"  said  Mr.  Ray- 
mond good-naturedly.  "Well,  let's  cut  out  the  coffee  and 
see  what  we  can  see." 

With  some  little  difficulty,  for  several  hundred  others  had 
the  same  idea  as  themselves,  they  squeezed  into  a  large 
banqueting  hall  with  rose  coloured  panels  between  which 
were  white  fluted  pilasters  and  rose  coloured  window  cur- 
tains. There  must  have  been  nearly  a  thousand  there — 
some  in  evening  dress,  others  in  morning  coat — all  men  ex- 
cept for  a  gailery  of  lady  spectators— arranged  in  long 
tables  marked  with  numbers.    These  designated  the  teams 


3o6 


DRUMS  AFAR 


If  \i 

i 


If 


1   f 


of  canvassers,  and  this  was  the  winding-up  dinner  of  the 

Canipaifjn- 

At  the  end  of  the  room  was  a  great  sign  with  tabulated 
figures,  showing  the  totals  collected  by  each  team  day  hv 
day  during  the  week. 

A  clergyman  of  sorts  was  concluding  a  speech  which 
was  evidently  militant.  Every  word  that  he  spoke  sank 
home. 

"The  Kaiser,"  he  was  saying,  "was  informed  that  England 
dare  not  go  to  war  because  Canada  was  eagerly  waiting  an 
opiH)rtunity  to  haul  down  the  Union  Jack  to  declare  herself 
a  free  Repv'  ''c.  To-night  there  are  between  thirty  thou- 
sand and  forty  thousand  Canadian  soldiers  at  Valcartier. 
and  here  in  this  room  are  assembled  the  great  repre- 
sentatives of  our  city  to  show  the  Kaiser  whether  we  want 
to  have  done  with  Britain  or  not. 

"Never  in  the  long  annals  of  history  has  a  nation  fought 
with  a  cleaner  conscience  or  with  a  cleaner  sword  than 
the  British  Empire  is  doing  to-day.  We  are  not  fighting  to 
vent  our  hate  upon  any  nailon,  or  to  extend  our  territories. 
We  arc  fighting  for  a  scrap  of  paper  only,  it  is  true,  but 
when  England's  solemn  word  of  honour  was  on  that  paper 
and  when  the  neutrality  of  gallant  and  immortal  little 
Belgium  was  violated,  the  path  of  honour  for  Britain  led 
straight  into  the  mouth  of  the  enemies'  cannon. 

"The  representatives  of  our  race  have  followed  and  will 
follow  to  the  bitter  end,  refusing  to  accept  the  infamou> 
bribes  of  German  diplomats,  refusing  to  play  traitor  to  gal- 
lant France  and  helpless  but  brave  Belgium. 

"We  are  fighting  because  there  are  still  such  things  as 
chivalrj'  and  honour  and  national  morality.  We  are  fight- 
ing to  defend  the  weaker  nations  of  Europe  from  the  armed 
brutality  and  the  ruthless  barbarism  of  the  Potsdam  war- 
lords. We  are  fighting  for  our  lives,  and  let  the  issue  He 
perfectly  clear,  for  our  liberties:  for  our  homes  and  for 
our  altars,  for  our  very  existence  as  a  self-governing,  lib- 
erty-loving people.     We  shall  fight  on,  if  it  takes  all  our 


DRUMS  AFAR 


307 


treasure,  all  our  ships,  all  our  men.  We  shall  fight  as 
long  as  there  is  a  gun  left  and  a  man  to  fire  it." 

A  roar  of  cheering  followed  this  peroration. 

"Holy  smoke!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Raymond.  "These  Can- 
ucks are  taking  the  thing  seriously !" 

Then  followed  an  auction.  A  big  Canadian,  with  a  voice 
as  big  as  his  body,  jumped  on  a  table  and  harangued  the 
audience  with  a  rollicking  introduction.  Then  got  down  to 
business. 

"First  I  have  to  offer  you  this  handsome  diamona  ring — 
not  fln  ordinary  ring,  nor  even  an  ordinary  diamond  ring, 
but  a  ring  with  a  history,  a  ring  which  sparkles  with  tender 
associations.  When  I  read  the  letter  that  accompanies  this 
ring,  you  will  dig  down  deep  into  your  pockets,  yet  all 
the  money  you  could  find  there  is  small  compared  to  the 
spirit  which  inspired  this  magnificent  gift.  The  ring  and 
the  letter  were  sent  by  an  unknown  lady  to  one  of  the 
leading  workers  in  this  campaign,  a  railway  president  whom 
you  all  know.    The  letter  reads : 

Dear  Mr,  President, 

I  can  contribute  no  sum  of  money  to  the  Patriotic  Fund 

at  all  commensurate  with  my  sympathy  for  the  cause,  so  I 

offer  the  enclosed,  the  gift  of  a  dearly  loved  father  to  a 

daughter  sixteen  years  old  many  years  ago.    I  send  this  ring 

to  you  personally,  Mr.  President,  because  my  father  was  a 

builder  of  railroads  and  as  such  met  and  conquered  in 

earlier  days  obstacles  that  would  have  daunted  a  smaller 

soul.    I  trust  and  believe  that  your  committees  will  find 

means  to  make  my  offering  of  some  avail,  at  least  their 

acceptance  of  it  will  honour  the  memory*  of  a  man  who, 

amidst  many  demands  upon  him,  was  never  heedless  of  the 

distress  of  a  woman  or  of  a  child.    May  we  not  feel  that 

in  this  hour  of  test  an  invincible  Host  is  with  us,  the  Host 

of  those  who  having  themselves  overcome,  point  the  way  of 

courage  and  endurance  and  of  mercy  \n  those  of  us  who 

go  and  those  of  us  who  stay.     I  am  respectfully 

.,,,-,.  A  Daughter  of  Loyalist3. 

Montreal,  September  14,  1914. 


3o8 


DRUMS  AFAR 


m 


1 1 


i    ! 
i     i 


"Point  the  way  of  courage?"  the  words  burned  into 
Charles's  very  soul.  What  was  he  doing  there?  What 
sacrifices  had  he  to  offer?  Must  this  unknown  Canadian 
woman  show  him  the  way? 

"Now,  gentlemen,"  said  the  auctioneer,  "after  an  appeal 
so  touching,  can  any  of  you  refuse  to  bid  five  hundred  dol- 
lars?—five  fifty— six  hundred — six  fifty — seven  hundred- 
eight— nine — one  thousand  dollars — thank  you,  you  are  a 
gentleman — one  thousand  dollars — my  time  is  worth  ten 
dollars  a  second — one  thousand — going!  going!  Gone! 
Name  please— Selim  ?— can't  catch  it— Salim  Bousamra. 
Stand  up  Mr.  Bousamra  and  show  these  gentlemen  the 
handsomest  man  in  Montreal. 

"One  of  my  Syrians !"  called  out  a  little  man  at  the  head 
of  one  of  the  tables. 

"Three  cheers  for  the  Syrians— hip-hip-hooray !"  called 
out  the  auctioneer  and  every  one  cheered  and  shouted 
"Speech — speech !" 

Salim  Bousamra  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  gesticulated 
with  oriental  significance. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "what  can  I  say?  I  will  just  say 
this — I  owe  everything  I  have  in  the  world  to  Montreal. 
Twenty  years  ago  I  came  to  Canada  without  a  cent.  Mon- 
treal has  been  good  to  me.  I  am  proud  to  be  able  to  give 
a  thousand  dollars  for  this  ring  to  your  Patriotic  Fund." 

A  Syrian  1  thought  Charles,  and  gives  a  thousand  dollars. 
What  had  he  to  give? 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  auctioneer,  "we  gave  three  cheers 
for  the  Syrians,  but  we  forgot  the  'tiger.'  " 

Such  a  "tiger"  as  followed  shook  the  roof. 

Fast  and  furious  went  the  auction  till  the  tensest  of  all 
excitement  when  bids  were  asked  for  a  horse.  The  animal 
itself  had  been  raffled  and  the  number  drawn  by  the 
auctioneer  himself,  who  once  more  put  it  up  for  sale  for 
the  benefit  of  the  Fund.  But  first  he  would  auction  the 
right  of  naming  ihe  horse.  A  roar  of  laughter  passed 
round  the  room  when  the  first  bid  came  not  from  among 
the  men  themselves  but  from  the  ladies'  gallery. 


i  f 


DRUMS  AFAR 


309 


"That's  my  wife,"  called  out  a  guest  at  the  high  table. 

"That's  my  money,"  floated  down  the  answer.  "If  you 
want  to  win  bid  higher." 

Then  came  a  contest  between  man  and  wife— three  hun- 
dred dollars-three  fifty— four  hundred-four  fifty-five 
hundred— five  twenty-five— going— gomg— gone— the  lady 

has  it!  J  •  u 

"Madame,"  said  the  auctioneer,  "what  name  do  you  wish 

to  give  to  the  horse  ?" 

"Colonel  Sam  Hughes,"  was  the  shrill  answer,  because 
he's  a  good  worker."  ,,,.,.• 

Loud  cheers  for  Canada's  Minister  of  Mihtia. 

The  auctioneer  scratched  his  head.  ^ 

"Can't  be  done,"  he  said,  "the  horse  is  also  a  lady. 

The  audience  rocked  with  laughter. 

"What  bids  for  the  right  of  re-naming  the  horse?  con- 
tinued the  indefatigable  auctioneer.  A  black-headed  French 
Canadian  ran  this  up  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

"What  name?" 

"Victoire!"  .         „    ^    , 

Like  a  flash  came  the  answer  and  like  a  flash  the  room 

rose  and  cheered. 

Then  followed  detailed  reports  from  the  captains  ot  the 
teams  of  canvassers-the  black-bearded  French  Canadian 
was  one— another  was  the  persistent  fellow  in  the  barber  s 
shop,  another  was  the  little  man  who  claimed  tne  Syrian, 
there  must  have  been  more  than  twenty— each  telling  tales 
of  sacrifices,  each  working  np  to  a  climax,  commencing 
with  the  small  subscriptions— cents,  dollars,  hundred  dol- 
lars, five  hundred  dollars,  thousands,  tens  of  thousands- 
there  --emed  to  be  more  thousand  dollars  than  cents— each 
captain  more  excited  than  the  one  before,  all  knowing  that 
the  million  they  had  promised  to  raise  would  be  nearer  a 
million  and  a  half,  all  stirred  by  the  sound  of  the  guns  in 
the  square  which  were  booming  out  their  record  of  the 
hundred  thousands  as  they  mounted  up,  all  fi-ed  with  the 
success  that  was  crowning  a  week  of  strenuous  campaign- 
ing.   Then  last  of  all  up  sprang  a  tall,  clean  shaven,  clean 


.  f 


310  DRUMS  AFAR 

cut  fair  haired  captain,  his  face  white  with  excitement, 
"'l  want  to  tell  you,"  he  shouted,  "about  the  meanest  man 
in  Montreal.  He  is  one  of  the  richest  men  in  Montreal, 
but  when  I  asked  him  for  a  subscription  for  the  wives  and 
soldiers  of  the  men  who  are  going  to  fight  his  battles,  he 
turned  me  down.  Now  what  do  you  think  of  that  ."—not  one 
cent  out  of  all  his  millions.  Gentlemen,  I  want  you  to  let 
me  tell  you  his  name.    Will  you  give  me  permission?" 

A  sudden  stillness  passed  over  the  room.  Not  one  there 
but  wished  to  know  the  name,  but  the  sporting  spirit,  which 
seemed  as  strong  he-e  in  Canada  as  in  any  other  part  of  the 
British  Empire  prevailed.  "Every  man  is  entitled  to  his 
own  opinion,"  was  the  thought,  and  "No-No-No!"  was 
the  answer.  ,  ,  . 

"Very  well,"  said  this  captain,  "let  us  turn  from  the 
millionaire  to  the  wage-earners." 

"That's  good,"  said  a  man  at  Charles  s  side,  hes  a 
millionaire  himself." 

The  fiery  captain  then  explained  that  the  total  he  could 
claim  that  night  was  due  to  the  employes  who  had  volun- 
teered to  give  a  day's  pay  to  the  Fund.  With  machine-gun 
rapidity  he  fired  off  names  and  figures,  always  working 
higher,  always  more  dramatic  till  at  his  final  total,  by  far 
the  highest  of  the  evening,  the  whole  room  rose  once  more 
and  with  handkerchiefs  and  napkins  acclaimed  the  most 
spectacular  record  of  a  record  night.  , .  ,   , 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Raymond.    "I  wouldnt  nave 
missed  this  for  a  thousand  dollars." 
The  auctioneer  was  at  his  elbow. 

"Did   I    lear  you   say  a  thousand  dollars?"   he   said. 
"Thank  you— just  sign  here." 

A  somewhat  sickly  grin  passed  over  the  Chicago  man  s 
face,  but  only  for  a  moment. 

"Yes,  damn  it,"  he  said,  "you  deserve  it,  and  I  m  glad 
to  give.    Count  me  as  one  of  the  boys." 

So  saying  he  took  the  pen  offered  him  and  signed  his 
name  and  address. 

Votes  of  thanks  were  now  being  passed  and  a  movement 


1'^  I 


DRUMS  AFAR 


3" 


started  towards  the  door.  Charles  and  Mr.  Raymond  were 
turning  when  suddenly  "God  Save  the  King"  was  struck 
up.  The  almost  riotous  excitement  sobered  down,  and 
with  a  sincerity  that  gave  the  familiar  music  a  new  mean- 
ing to  Charles  a  thousand  throats  sang  the  National  Anthem. 
As  he  passed  towards  the  door  he  picked  up  a  card,  evi- 
dently used  by  a  canvasser  in  soliciting  subscriptions.  There 
were  just  three  lines. 

"SOME  WOMEN  ARE  GIVING  THEIR  MEN 
SOME  MEN  ARE  GIVING  THEIR  LIVES 

WHAT  ARE  YOU  GIVING?" 

"What  am  I  giving?  What  can  I  give?  What  am  I 
doing?  What  can  I  do?"  These  thoughts  kept  beating 
on  his  brain  and  would  not  be  repelled.  Every  one  seemed 
to  shame  him:  the  unknown  "Daughter  of  Loyalists,"  Salim 
Bousamra  the  Syrian,  the  Montreal  working  man  with  his 
"day's  pay,"  Mr.  Raymond  himself  with  his  thousand 
American  dollars,  and  Charles  himself,  an  Englishman,  with 
England  at  war  in  England's  war,  her  first  army  defeated, 
glad  to  get  the  help  of  her  colonies— what  had  he  given, 
what  was  he  doing? 

The  telegram  sent  by  Winston  Churchill  from  South 
Africa  to  the  Morning  Post  early  in  the  Boer  War  came  to 

his  mind. 
"What  are  the  gentlemen  of  England  doing?    Are  they 

all  fox-hunting?" 

Fox-hunting— moose-hunting?  where  was  the  difference? 

"Hello,  Fitzmorris— well,  of  all  the  luck!" 

A  slap  on  the  shoulder  woke  him  from  his  reflections. 
It  was  Jeffers— good  old  bull-voiced  Jeffers,  who  had 
coached  the  Third  Togger  to  victory  on  the  river  that  first 
year  at  Oxford. 

"Jeffers!     W^hat  are  you  doing  here?    Are  you  living 

in  Montreal?" 
"Just  till  to-morrow.    Then " 


312 


DRUMS  AFAR 


\l 


A  sudden  light  seemed  to  break  over  his  face  and  he 
slipped  his  arm  through  that  of  Charles. 

"Come  up  to  my  room  and  have  a  pow-wow.  Are  you 
with  anybody?" 

"Yes,  let  me  introduce  you,  Mr.  Raymond  of  Chicago- 
Mr.  Jeffers,  an  old  college  friend." 

"Glad  to  know  you,"  said  Mr.  Raymond.  "Say,  Charles, 
don't  let  me  keep  you.  I  guess  I'll  go  to  b-d— I've  had  all 
the  excitement  I  want  to-night.    See  you  in  the  morning." 

With  a  cheery  good-night  he  left  them. 

"Who's  the  old  buck?"  asked  Jeffers. 

"One  of  the  very  best,"  replied  Charles,  and  told  him 
of  the  thousand  dollars. 

"Gad,  you're  right!"  exclaimed  Jeffers.  "There  must 
be  something  human  in  a  fellow  who  gets  carried  away  like 
that.  These  Americans  are  white  men  and  will  be  with 
us  yet.    But  that's  not  what  I  have  in  mind." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  his  room. 

"Well,"  said  Charles,  mking  into  a  chair  and  lighting  a 
cigarette,  "what  is  on  what  you  call  your  mind?" 

"It's  this,"  said  Jeffers  so  solemnly  that  Charles  regretted 
his  flippancy,  "those  thirty  to  forty  thousand  Canadians 
referred  to  by  that  Methodist  parson  to-night  are  sailing  on 
Sunday,  day  after  to-morrow,  from  Quebec  under  convoy 
for  England,  and  I'm  going  with  them." 

"As  an  officer?" 

"No,  not  as  an  officer,  nor  even  as  a  private,  but  as  a 
ship's  steward.  It's  the  only  way  to  make  it.  When  war 
broke  out,  I  thought  of  enlisting,  but  then,  damn  it!  I 
wasn't  a  Canadian,  and  it  didn't  seem  right  to  join  a  Cana- 
dian regiment — until  it  was  too  late  and  the  lists  were 
closed.  But  there's  lots  of  room  over  there,  and  mark 
my  words,  Fitzmorris,  we  are  needed,  you  and  I.  This  is  no 
war  like  the  Boer  War " 

"And  yet,"  flashed  through  Charles's  mind,  "even  in 
the  Boer  War  there  was  a  call  for  the  gentlemen  of  Eng- 
land." 

"This,"  continued  Jeffers,  "is  a  matter  of  life  and  death, 


^^imii' 


DRUMS  AFAR 


313 


and  so  I'm  going  home.  All  the  passenger  boats  have  been 
commandeered  for  three  weeks,  but  why  pay  passage  money 
when  you  can  work  your  way?  I've  got  a  pal  in  a  steam- 
ship company  who  has  promised  to  sign  me  on  as  a  stevvard 
on  the  Virginian,  there  are  thirty  transports  and  lots  of  jobs 
vacant,  as  so  many  of  their  old  stewards  were  reservists. 
My  pal  said,  if  I  had  any  friends  like  myself,"— and  he 
looked  Charles  full  in  the  face,— "I  might  bring  them 
along." 

At  last  the  moment  had  come,  and  now  that  it  had  come 
Charles  was  glad.  All  this  uncertainty,  this  sleepless  con- 
troversy with  his  conscience,  this  conflict  between  the  call 
of  Madeline  and  the  call  of  duty  was  to  end.  What  his 
decision  must  be  was  clear  as  noonday.  The  spirit  of 
patriotism  and  sacrifice  that  he  had  seen  in  the  meeting 
downstairs  had  purged  his  soul. 

"So  far,"  continued  Jeffers,  "I've  collected  seven— all 
Oxford  men— all  rowing  men— they  seem  to  have  dropped 
in  here  mostly  from  the  States— just  now  they  are  all  out 
on  an  unholy  jag— but  I  want  an  eighth.  I'm  going  to 
stroke  this  crew  myself  this  time,  and  not  just  holler  from 
the  bank.  It'll  be  a  mixed  crew— two  Magdalen  men,  two 
men  from  New  College,  one  from  Trinity,  one  from  Univ, 
myself  from  the  House— five  different  colleges  you  see,  but 
then  you  get  into  a  mixed  crew  if  you  row  for  Leander. 
By  Jove,  Fitzmorris,  this  will  be  better  even  than  rowing 
for  Leander,  won't  you  be  one  of  us  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Charles,  a  lump  in  his  throat,  as  he  rose  from 
his  chair  and  grasped  Jeffers's  hand,  "yes,  I  will." 

"I  knew  you  would — I  knew  you  would." 

The  lump  in  his  throat  disappeared  as  suddenly  as  it 
came,  and  having  thus  lightened  his  soul  on  the  summit 
of  the  Hill  of  Difficulty,  Charles  went  joyfully  on. 

"What  about  the  cox  ?    Can't  you  rope  in  a  ninth  ?" 

Jeffers  smiled. 

"There  is  a  man  also  of  Oxford — a  scholar  First  in 
Greats — proxime  accessit  for  the  Ireland — who  has  begged 
me  on  his  knees  to  be  allowed  to  come,  but  I  hesitate — he 


314 


DRUMS  AFAR 


14  > 


;.; 


Il 


I  i 

k  1 

\  I; 

-1.  e 

J I 


is  a  BalHol  man.  I  don't  know  whether  the  other  fellows 
would  stand  him.  One  has  to  be  particular,  even  as  a 
steward  on  a  transport." 

"Why  not  let  him  come  as  a  sculleryman,"  suggested 
Char'-^s.  "I  suppose  even  on  a  transport  some  one  washes 
tht     shes.    Is  he  very  Balliol?" 

"Very.  One  of  Lord  Milner's  young  men.  Talks 
'Empire'  with  his  chin  in  the  air  and  thinks  Canada  is 
governed  by  England.  Now  that  I  come  to  think  of  it,  the 
wisest  thin^  would  be  to  get  him  out  of  the  country.  What's 
more,  one  should  not  be  too  particular.  This  is  a  war  for 
democracy.  The  cook's  galley  will  suit  him  admirably. 
His  name  is  Mount  joy — The  Honourable  Algernon  Augus- 
tus Clarence — though  he  has  dropped  the  Honourable  since 
he  came  to  Canada.  That  title  is  known  here  only  in  con- 
nection with  wise  and  aged  Senators.  The  Honourable 
Algernon  looks  eighteen." 

"What  is  the  programme  ?"  asked  Charles, 
it  one  ociock  we  go  on  board.  We  don't  pick  up  the 
soldiers  till  we  reach  Quebec  but  that  will  give  the  other 
fellows  time  to  sober  up  and  give  us  all  time  to  learn  some- 
thing about  our  jobs.  I've  found  the  place  where  we  can 
get  clothes.    We  can  take  it  on  our  way  to  the  Docks." 

At  one  o'clock !  That  left  little  time  enough  to  break  the 
news  and  say  good-bye  to  Madeline.  Well,  so  much  the 
better.  She  would  make  a  scene — Charles  hated  scenes— 
the  sooner  it  was  over  the  better.  He  loved  her — God 
knows  he  loved  her,  but  now  he  had  no  choice  out  go. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 


IT  was  not  till  he  woke  up  shivering  at  five  o'clock 
next  morning  that  Charles  realized  how  much  was 
involved  in  his  promise.  Madeline  and  Mr.  Raymond 
had  brought  him  in  perfectly  good  faith  to  Montreal, 
had  made  arrangements  for  guides  and  outfit  in  Nova 
Scotia,  and  now  at  a  moment's  notice  he  was  going  to 
desert  them.  It  was,  moreover,  poor  courtesy  to  the  girl 
to  whom  he  was  affianced  that  he  should  thus  suddenly 
leave  her  in  the  lurch.  It  was  all  very  heroic  for  him  to  go 
back  to  Englr.id  to  enlist,  but  it  was  damned  hard  on  the 

girl- 

Of  course  it  was  hard  on  him  loo  to  leave  her  so  sud- 
denly. He  had  anticipated  a  fortnight  of  sheer  happiness, 
followed  by  the  novelty  of  a  return  to  study,  with  the  pros- 
pect of  an  early  marriage  to  the  girl  he  loved,  somewhere 
about  Christmas,  and  then  after  the  close  of  his  course 
at  Harvard  a  comfortable  home  with  a  good  income  in 
a  business  which  promised  to  be  congenial.  Mr.  Raymond 
had  shown  himself  a  prince,  and  this  was  Charles's  return. 
No  glamour  of  heroism  could  obscure  the  inconsiderateness 
of  his  treatment  of  both  Madeline  and  her  father,  and  he 
cursed  JeflFers  for  having  won  his  promise  in  that  moment 
of  impulse. 

And  yet  Charles,  knowing  his  own  character  and  know- 
ing the  hold  that  this  lovely  girl  could  exercise  upon  him 
if  she  cho=»,  knew  that  if  he  were  to  go  at  all,  he  must 
go  now.     He    hred  not  wait. 

Breakfast  \,ds  a  difficult  meal.  Madeline  was  full  of 
spirits,  looking  forward  to  a  morning's  shopping.  There 
were  camp  dainties  which  might  not  be  easy  to  get  at 
Annapolis.  Then  there  was  Montreal  itself  to  see.  Mr. 
Raymond  for  his  part  was  still  under  the  excitement  of  the 

3tS 


3i6 


DRUMS  AFAR 


II.  ! 


11 


:nefit  the 


night  before,  and  pictured  for  his  daughter' j- 
scenes  they  had  witnessed. 

"I  tell  you,  Madeline,"  he  said,  "it  made  s  e  ^eel  good  to 
think  I  had  Canadian  blood  in  me.  They  i  i;  act  foolish 
to  get  mixed  up  in  this  war,  but  there's  no  meanneb^  r'bout 
the  way  they  do  it— all  except  one  millionaire." 

And  he  chuckled  as  he  told  the  story  of  the  fiery  captain. 

Charles  in  the  meanwhile  was  steeling  himself  for  the 
declaration  and  unable  to  touch  his  food.  He  answered 
every  question  absent-,  aindedly ;  so  much  so  ihat  Mr.  Ray- 
mond, remembering  the  similar  indifference  at  last  night's 
dinnc",  began  to  be  concerned. 

"What's  the  matter,  Charles.    Can't  you  be  tempted?" 

"The  food's  all  right,"  answered  Charles,  r  solved  at  lar' 
to  have  it  out.  "The  trouble  is  not  of  the  body  but  of  the 
mind.  I  kncw  you  will  think  it  rotten  of  me  to  spoil  your 
plans,  but  I  may  as  well  say  it  now  and  have  done  with  it— 
I  can't  go  on  this  hunting  trip.    I  am  sailing  for  England 

to-morrow." 

"Sailing— for— England— to-morrow?" 

Madeline  pushed  her  chair  back  from  the  table  in  amaze- 
ment, and  Mr.  Raymond'"  jaw  fell. 

"Yes,"  continued  Charles  desperately,  "I've  made  up  my 
mind  that  it  is  my  duty  to  enlist." 

"To— enlist?— to  go  and  fight ?— Charles,  how  can  you.^ 

Madeline  turned  deathly  white  and  her  father  was  afraid 
she  was  going  to  faint.  The  colour,  however,  gradually 
cam<;  back,  and  with  it  a  squaring  of  the  chin  and  a  hard 
look  in  the  eves  which  Charles  had  never  seen  before. 

"T  guess  this  is  no  place  to  argue,"  said  Mr.  Raymond, 
his  eyebrows  knitted  together.  "Let's  go  upstairs  and 
thrash  ii  out.    Waiter,  give  me  the  check." 

They  went  in  silence  to  the  sitting-room  which  formed 
part  of  the  suite  the  Raymonds  had  secured.  Mr.  Raymond 
hewing  the  end  of  an  unlighted  cigar,  and  Madeline 


W' 


nc:vuusly  put  on  and  look  off  her  right  hand  glove.     As 
soon  as  the  door  closed  behind  them,  she  broke  out. 
"What  uj  you  mean,  Charles?    How  can  you  explain 


DRUMS  AFAR 


317 


this?  Why  didn't  you  tell  us  before ?  How  could  you  lead 
us  to  come  on  this  trip,  make  all  the  arrangements  for 
guides,  and  then  drop  out?  What  about  father  and  his 
business,  a  fortnight  of  which  he  was  giving  up  to  please 
you?  How  about  me  and  our  engagement?  Are  you 
going  to  make  a  fool  of  me  before  all  my  friends  ?  Do  you 
think  it  honourable  to  leave  me  at  a  moment's  notice  ?  Am 
I  of  so  little  account?  Do  you  imagine  yourself  already 
my  lord  and  master  and  that  I  must  put  up  with  whatever 
you  choose  to  do?  That  may  be  the  English  way,  but 
I  expect  more  consideration,  and  I  mean  to  have  it.  When 
did  you  come  to  this  decision?    It  all  seems  very  sudden." 

"It  is  sudden,"  said  Charles,  "although  it  should  not 
have  been.  I  know  I  am  at  fault,  first  in  not  making  this 
decision  before,  and  then  in  doing  it  in  this  way.  But  last 
night  opened  my  eyes.  You,  Mr.  Raymond,  you  said  a 
few  minutes  ago  that  it  made  you  feel  good  to  know  you 
had  Canadi  n  blood  in  you.  Well,  I— I  feel  ashamed  that 
I  have  none.  These  Canadians  have  shamed  me — thirty 
thousand  sailing  from  Quebec  to-morrow  to  fight  my  battles 
in  an  unknown  country,  and  I  young  and  strong  staying  be- 
hind when  I  know  by  heart  the  ground  where  the  battles 
are  being  fought.  Tlie  Canadian  women  shame  me,  I  am 
shamed  by  the  Canadian  men  who  are  generously  giving 
to  the  wives  and  children  of  those  who  go.  What  p-  I 
doing?    What  am  I  giving?    Absolutely  nothing." 

"If  it  is  only  a  question  of  money — "  began  Mr.  Rayi».ond. 

"No  money  can  pay  the  price,"  said  Charles  bitterly. 
"Don't  think  me  rude,  but  you  cannot  measure  duty  up  in 
dollars  and  cents.  My  duty  is  to  go  and  go  quickly.  I 
have  delayed  too  long.  I  know  it  is  not  fair  to  you,  Mr. 
Raymond,  that  I  should  spoil  your  plans — you  have  been 
more  than  good  to  me.  And  you,  Madeline,  it  is  brutal  of 
me  to  treat  you  like  this — go  suddenly,  without  fair  warn- 
ing. But  there  is  no  other  thing  to  do.  To-morrow  I  have 
3  chance  of  crossing  with  the  Can.^dian  contingent,  but  if 
so  I  must  go  on  board  ship  in  a  few  hours.  I  have  given 
my  word  of  honour  to  go." 


3i8 


DRUMS  AFAR 


!.   S 


"You  forpet,"  said  Madeline  sarcastically,  "you  once 
gave  your  word  to  me.  An  Englishman's  word  is  his  bond, 
I  suppose,  unless  it  is  given  to  an  American  woman.  And. 
by  the  wiy,  it  must  be  a  funny  kind  of  Canadian  army  that 
is  willing  to  take  you,  untrained,  without  a  day  of  drill.  Is 
it  because  you  are  an  Oxford  man?  Is  it  with  brains  that 
they  hope  to  beat  the  Germans?" 

'Tm  not  going  in,  but  only  with,  the  Canadian  anny. 
I've  got  the  promise  of  a  job  on  one  of  the  transports  as 
a  steward " 

"A  steward  1"  the  other  two  exclaimed. 

"Yes,"  said  Charles,  "it's  the  only  way.  Otherwise  I 
might  have  to  wait.  There's  not  a  berth  to  purchase,  every 
ship  is  commandeered." 

Madeline  and  her  father  looked  at  each  other  amazed. 
Then,  feeling  that  perhaps  he  had  better  leave  his  daughter 
alone  to  settle  this  matter  with  Charles,  Mr.  Raymond  said: 

"I'm  going  for  a  little  walk.  You  t\/o  can  have  a  heart 
to  heart  talk  for  an  hour,  and  let  me  know  how  you  stand 
when  I  come  back.  This  is  certainly  some  mix-up,  and 
fresh  air  may  clear  my  brain." 

When  they  were  alone,  Madeline  stood  for  a  while  at  the 
window,  looking  out  with  her  back  towards  him,  while 
Charles  leaned  against  a  bureau  furiously  smoking  a  cigar- 
ette. 

"Madeline !"  he  said  at  last,  huskily. 

She  turned,  her  eyes  full  of  tears,  her  arms  outstretched. 

"How  could  you ! "  she  cried.    "How  could  you !" 

Sobbing  bitterly,  with  her  face  on  his  shoulder  and  her 
arms  round  hi.  neck,  she  stirred  all  the  pity  and  remorse 
that  any  man  in  such  circumstances  could  feel.  His  resolu- 
tion began  to  melt — she  was  so  beautiful — she  loved  him— 
he  loved  her  so— he  had  been  cruelly  abrupt— surely  he 
could  delay— sail  by  another  port  on  another  boat— take 
this  hunting  trip  first — the  rifle  practice  would  not  be  wasted 
—she  would  not  find  it  then  so  hard  to  explain  lo  her 
friends— these  and  a  thousand  other  such  alternatives 
ricochetted  through  his  mir.  I     But  then  how  could  he 


DRUMS  AFaR 


310 


stand  another  fortnight  of  this  ch'nging,  these  embraces, 
this  appeal  to  his  softer  r.  «ture — would  she  thus  not  gain 
time  to  break  down  his  intention,  to  make  him  forget  his 
duty? 

He  dared  not  take  the  risk.    This  must  be  farewell. 

He  led  her  to  a  sofa  and,  putting  his  arm  round  her, 
kissed  her  hair  and  gently  stroked  her  cheek  till  she  wis 
calm  enough  to  speak  coherently.  When  she  did  sperik, 
it  was  to  express  the  very  thoughts  he  dreaded. 

"Why  go  so  soon?"  she  urged.  "And  why  from  Can- 
ada? Why  not  New  York,  by  one  of  the  big  steamers, 
such  ss  the  Lusitaniaf  It  would  be  much  safer,  and  we 
would  have  time  to  talk  things  over.  Can't  you  see  how 
unfair  it  is  to  leave  me  like  this?  We  were  to  have  been 
married,  to  have  been  together  for  the  rest  of  our  lives, 
and  then  overnight  you  decide  to  rush  away.  Every  one 
will  sav  vou  have  jilted  me— they  will  say  it  serves  me 
right  foi  not  choosing  an  American.  And  I— I  thought 
you  were  going  to  become  one  of  us.  We  had  it  all  planned 
so  nicely — father  had  promised  to  take  you  into  the  firm, 
and  I  -tw,  because  of  an  imaginary  duty,  you  throw  us  all 

overboard." 

"Dearest,  don't  call  it  imaginar>',"  said  Charles.  "I  wish 
you  had  been  there  last  night  to  hear.  Your  father  himself 
was  moved  as  I  never  saw  him  moved  before.  And  you — 
you  would  have  understood.  There  are  things  that  a  man 
must  do  if  he  wishes  to  be  thought  a  man.  Look  at  your 
own  grandfather— in  the  Civn  War— he  did  not  hesitate 
when  the  call  came." 

"Let  the  dead  past  bury  their  dead,"  she  answered.  "This 
is  another  matter.  Why  can't  you  cable  over  first  to  see 
whether  you  are  wanted?  What  if  you  go  across  to  find 
that  England  has  all  the  men  she  needs?  If  she  were  in 
such  desperate  straits,  surely  she  would  have  sent  out 
proclamations  through  the  consuls  or  the  Ambassador.  We 
have  seen  so  little  of  each  other,  Charles,  and  I  might  never 
see  you  again.  Don't  be  more  cruel  to  me  than  you  can 
help.    This  convoy  that  you  talk  about  may  hang  about  for 


320 


DRUMS  AFAR 


J, 


days,  and  is  sure  to  travel  slowly.  If  you  waited  for  a 
fast  boat  from  New  York,  you  might  still  arrive  in  England 
just  as  quick." 

She  nestled  close  to  him  and  looked  up  into  his  eyes  with 
the  appeal  that  he  seldom  resisted.  She  felt  that  he  was 
wavering,  and  eagerly  pressed  on  the  assault. 

"This  hunting  trip  would  have  been  so  glorious,"  she 
murmured  as  he  kissed  her.  "I  have  looked  forward  to  it 
so — we  should  have  been  so  much  together,  and  I  wanted 
to  teach  you  the  way  of  the  woods.  Oh,  there's  nothing 
like  it!— to  steal  along  the  lake  in  a  canoe,  to  cook  one's 
meals  over  the  camp  fire,  to  watch  the  squirrels  and  listen 
to  the  bird  calls,  to  snuggle  at  night  under  a  lean-to,  and 
look  out  over  the  glowing  embers  through  the  trees  at  the 
stars.  It's  not  so  much  the  hunting  and  fishing,  but  it's 
the  whole  life.    Oh,  you  would  love  it!" 

"I  know  I  should,"  he  answered,  "particularly  with  you, 
dear.    But " 

"But?"  She  trembled  lest  he  should  yet  escape  her,  and 
brought  her  last  artillery  to  bear.  "But,  Charles— I  had 
thought— it  might  have  been— it  might  still  be— more  than 
a  mere  hunting  trip.  Suppose — I  am  sure  now  that  under 
the  circumstances  father  would  not  object — it  has  come 
so  suddenly  that  we  must  do  things  quickly— suppose  that 
we  should  make  it  not  just  a  hunting,  but  a  honeymoon 
trip." 

Then  buried  her  face  in  his  breast. 

"Why,"  said  Charles,  catching  eagerly  at  the  thought, 
"what  do  you  mean?" 

"Just  this,"  she  said.  "I  can  do  without  the  trousseau— 
I  can  do  without  the  fashionable  wedding— we  can  surely 
find  a  minister  here— or  even  a  registry— I  can't  do  without 
you,  dear." 

Those  lips  so  red! 

T-r-r-r-ring !    T-r-i  r-ring! 

Startled,  they  broke  apart— then  laughed.  It  was  only 
the  telephone. 

Madeline  lifted  the  receiver. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


321 


"Some  one  calling  you,  Charles — the  name  sounds  like 
Jeffers." 

Jeffers  it  was. 

"Hello,  Fitzmorris.  Excuse  this  interruption,  but  I 
thought  you'd  better  have  a  reminder.  Met  the  old  buck, 
your  friend,  Mr.  Raymond,  downstairs,  and  went  '■  th  him 
for  a  stroll.  He  asked  me  about  you,  and  told  me  what 
you  were  here  for.  I  can  guess  the  situation.  Now  if  you 
still  mean  to  come,  be  at  my  room  at  twelve  o'clock  sharp. 
I  have  an  appointment  with  my  steamship  pal  at  twelve- 
fifteen,  and  want  you  to  meet  him  and  get  signed  on.  If 
you  feel  you  have  acted  too  hastily,  I'll  understand — don't 
blame  me  afterwards — it  all  rests  with  your  own  conscience. 
What  I  want  to  say  is  what  I  said  last  night.  Fitzmorris, 
we  are  needed  over  there,  you  and  I — it's  a  matter  of  life 
and  death.  If  you  come  tiow,  you'll  just  make  up  the  eight. 
I'm  going  to  stroke  this  crew  myself — it'll  be  a  mixed  crew, 
but  this  will  be  better  even  than  rowing  for  Leander.  So 
long,  old  man." 

"Who  was  that?"  asked  Madeline  anxiously.  Some  in- 
stinct told  her  that  there  was  danger. 

"Jeffers,  an  old  friend  at  Oxford,  I  met  him  last 
night- 


"Ah !  he  was  the  man- 


"Yes,  the  man  I  promised  to  go  over  with." 

"But  you  won't — now?" 

Charles  dared  not  look  at  her.  In  his  ears  rang  the 
words.  "We  are  needed  there — you  and  I — it's  a  matter  of 
life  and  death " 

She  caught  him  by  the  arm  and  clung  to  him. 

"Say  you  won't — now — now  that  we  are  to  be  married 
— to-morrow — if  possible  to-day." 

All  the  more  he  dared  not  look  her  in  the  face. 

"Charles,"  the  words  came  sharply  now,  "you  surely  can't 
refuse  me — when  I  give  up  everything — sink  my  pride — 
make  myself  cheap — just  to  keep  you  for  a  little  while." 

That  was  it — keep  him — for  a  little  while,  she  said,  but 
he  knew  it  meant  more.     It  meant  that  she  would  keep 


f.i 


322 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Mi 


him  altogether,  in  silken  chains  of  ease,  when  those  other 
fellows  over  there  were  fighting.  Once  she  had  him  m 
her  arms,  with  her  passionate  kisses,  how  could  he  tear 
himself  away?    Now  must  be  the  break— now,  or  xt  would 

be  too  late.  ,    ,  ,     .         , 

Pulling  himself  together,  he  forced  the  words  through 

his  lips.  ^^ 

"Madeline,  I  must  go— I'm  sorry. 

How  lame  it  sounded! 

Yet  he  had  courage  now  to  look  at  her,  and  saw  that 
her  face  was  dark.  The  jet-black  eyes  were  never  so 
black,  and  never  so  hard.  He  could  not  have  beheved  so 
sudden  a  revulsion.  She  was  more  like  a  wild  animal  at 
bay  than  the  Madeline  he  had  known. 

"You  really  mean  it?"  she  whispered,  clutching  her  throat 
as  if  her  feelings  choked  her,  and  stepping  away  from  him. 
"After  all  I  have  offered— almost  the  last  that  a  woman 
can  offer— and  you  surely  would  not  ask  for  that— and  you 
say  you  love  me?" 

"I  do  love  you,"  he  protested,  "but 

'I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much 
Loved  I  not  honour  more.'  " 

The  words  seemed  to  sting  her  into  fury. 

"Don't  waste  your  quotations  on  me,"  she  flung  at  him. 
"Keep  them  for  your  Oxford  friends.  Keep  them  also 
for  your  standard  of  honour— that  breaks  its  word  with  a 
woman.  Keep  also  your  love— it  is  too  light  for  me.  If  I 
give  myself  to  a  man,  he  must  be  mine  alone.  Go  back  to 
England  and  be  a  hero— that  is  to  say,  if  a  ship's  steward 
can  be  a  hero.  If  you  do  write  to  me,  all  I  want  to  know 
is,  how  much  do  you  get  in  tips." 

"Madeline!" 

She  burst  into  tears. 

"Oh,  I  know  I  shouldn't  have  said  that— but  you  madden 
me  so.  Go!  Go!  don't  let  me  hold  you  back— have  it  over 
and  done  with." 


DRUMS  AFAR 


323 


Some  one  knocked  at  the  door. 

"There's  father,"  she  cried,  and  let  him  in. 

He  looked  at  the  two  sadly  and  shook  his  head. 

"Nothing  doing?"  he  questioned.  "Just  as  I  feared. 
Well,  Charles,  it's  rough  on  the  girl.  You  have  given  her 
a  raw  deal,  but  I  see  now  how  it  all  happened.  If  we  could 
only  arrange  things  to  suit  our  own  convenience,  this  would 
be  a  wonderful  world.  I  met  your  friend  Mr.  Jeffers.  I 
guess  he's  sorry  he  butted  in,  but  what's  done  can't  be 
undone.  It's  all  up  to  you  now,  Charles,  and  let  me  tell 
you,  whether  you  go  or  whether  you  stay,  you  can  bank 
on  Henry  Raymond." 

Again  the  lump  rose  in  Charles's  throat. 

"I  daren't  stay,"  he  said,  signifying  Madeline  with  his 
hand.  "If  I  did,  I  might  forget,  and  if  I  forgot,  I  should 
be  no  man  for  any  true  woman.  And  so — forgive  me — 
and  good-bye !" 

"Good-bye,  my  son— God  bless  you!  Don't  forget  to 
write." 

It  was  a  handshake  Charles  could  never  forget. 

"Madeline,"  he  said  falteringly,  "won't  you  forgive  me? 
Won't  you  say  good-bye?" 

She  held  out  her  hand — all  cold  and  trembling— but  did 
not  look  at  him,  or  say  a  word.  His  heart  full  of  pity,  and 
shame,  and  yet  of  steadfast  resolution,  Charles  lifted  the 
fingers  to  his  lips,  and  with  this  last  salute  tore  himself 
away. 


CHAPTER  XXXTII 


I 
I! 


•I: 

k 
Hi 


t 


't 


;» 


THE  Raymonds  did  not  give  up  their  hunting  trip 
though  Mr.  Raymond  suggested  return.  Made- 
line, however,  was  obstinate  to  show  that  she 
could  live  her  own  life  in  the  old  way,  and  after 
consideration  her  father  thought  she  would  more  easily 
forget  the  shock  of  Charles's  departure  in  that  form  of  life 
which  she  loved  the  most.  To  the  Liverpool  chain  of  lakes 
they  therefore  went,  and  each  got  the  treasured  trophy  of  a 
moose  head  before  September  ended.  Moosehunting — in 
September,  however,  is  a  sport  where  the  thrills  are  of 
short  duration.  A  windy  day  is  an  idle  day,  and  on  such  a 
day  all  that  the  hunter  usually  does  is  to  loaf  around  the 
camp  and  pray  for  a  cold  calm  morning. 

Madeline,  though  she  spent  such  days  in  fishing,  had 
ample  time  for  reflection,  and  reflection  made  her  only  the 
more  bitter.  In  her  heart  she  knew  she  still  loved  Charles, 
and  she  would  still  be  true  to  him,  but  she  would  teach  him 
a  lesson — would  send  him  cold  answers  it  any  answer  at  all 
to  his  letters,  would  make  him  suffer  in  sil  nee  for  his  lack 
of  consideration.  At  the  end  of  the  war,  which  surely 
could  not  last  more  than  a  year,  she  would  graciously  for- 
give him  and  take  him  back,  conttite  and  handsomer  than 
ever,  into  her  favour. 

He  would  come  back — she  knew  he  would,  if  only  to 
make  up  for  his  unmannerly  departure,  if  only  she  said 
the  word.  She  realized  now  that  it  was  his  love  for  her 
of  which  he  had  been  most  afraid  and  which  had  made  the 
parting  so  abrupt.  His  was  a  character  which  angered  her 
and  yet  which  she  admired — strong  in  its  very  weakness, 
boyishly  sincere.  He  would  make  i  good  officer,  she  felt 
sure,  and  a  good  husband.  Therefore,  although  she  meant 
to  punish  him,  she  did  not  mean  to  let  him  go. 

As  time  went  on,  however,  Madeline  found  the  punish- 
ment was  not  all  on  one  side.  She  won  her  heart's  desire 
in  singing  at  the  Thomas  Concerts,  but  the  triumph  tasted 

324 


DRUMS  AFAR 


325 


only  as  ashes  in  her  mouth.  New  York  invited  her  to  sing, 
and  Boston,  but  she  found  again  that  she  had  less  pleasure 
in  the  applause  of  these  great  critical  and  profitable  audi- 
ences than  when  she  had  sung  alone  at  Lake  Geneva  with 
Charles  the  only  listener,  his  arm  around  her  waist.  These 
audiences  clapped  their  hands  and  forgot.  In  Charles's 
heart  her  voice  had  found  its  home. 

His  letters  came  after  the  first  month  once  a  week,  and 
though  she  acknowledged  them  only  with  a  postcard,  she 
knew  them  backward.  The  first  one  told  her  of  the  voyage 
with  the  Canadian  Contingent. 


"Dearest  Madeline, 

"I  can't  expect  to  get  an  answer  to  my  letters,  but  I 
intend  to  write  to  you  all  the  same.  I  want  you  always 
to  know  that  you  are  the  only  girl  for  me,  and  though  by 
my  thoughtlessness  I  may  have  lost  you  let  this  be  my 
penance  and  my  purgatory — to  tell  you  for  ever  of  my  love, 
and  never  to  know  whether  my  love  will  be  again  returned. 

*T  signed  on  as  steward  on  the  Virginian,  and  an  interest- 
ing trip  it  was.  That  was  because  of  Jeffers  who  by  some 
mysterious  influence  had  got  six — no  seven  other  Oxford 
men  besides  ourselves  into  the  same  kind  of  job  on  the 
same  boat.  You  were  right  about  the  convoy  hanging 
about.  Although  we  were  on  the  ship  within  three  hours 
of  the  time  I  said  good-bye  to  you,  we  had  to  hang  about  in 
harbour  for  a  whole  week  before  we  even  left  for  Quebec. 
Every  day  we  expected  to  leave  next  morning,  and  when 
some  of  the  ship's  crew  brought  the  rumour  that  the  Expe- 
ditionary Force  had  already  sailed  for  England  we  could 
do  nothing  but  curse  our  luck  and  hope  for  the  best. 

"At  last  we  lifted  anchor  and  started  down  the  St.  Law- 
rence. The  maple  leaf  had  turned,  and  the  woods  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  were  one  blaze  of  scarlet  and  russet  and 
gold.  Towards  evening  we  reached  Quebec — with  its  high 
rock-set  citadel  and  great  Chateau  overlooking  the  waiting 
convoy — every  ship  painted  grey — surely  a  sight  to  stir  the 
heart. 

"Some  of  the  transports  were  already  loaded.     Our 


■tf 


•I 


t 

ii 


326 


DRUMS  AFAR 


I 


consignment  came  on  next  day;  a  battalion  from  Van- 
couver— a  curious  mixture  of  men  from  the  forests  and  the 
mines  and  the  orchards  and  the  cities — many  of  them  evi- 
dently Englishmen  and  somr  who  knew  their  officers  by 
their  first  names. 

"We  hung  about  three  more  days  waiting  till  all  the 
troops  had  embarked  before  we  set  off  again  down  stream. 
It  was  a  perfect  day,  and  the  gleam  of  sunshine  on  the 
church  spires  and  the  little  white  French  Canadian  villages 
made  a  picture  of  strange  charm.  At  Gaspe  again  we  had 
another  two  days'  wait,  some  said  because  of  submarines. 
We  were  thirty-one  transports  in  all,  and  only  four  light 
cruisers  in  sight  to  protect  us.  That,  however,  did  not 
concern  me.  I  was  thinking  all  the  time  of  you,  knowing 
you  were  somewhere  in  Nova  Scotia  just  to  the  south,  and 
picturing  you  out  on  the  edge  of  a  lake  calling  moose  as  you 
did  that  first  wonderful  evening  on  Lake  Geneva. 

"Those  days  of  waiting  were  as  it  happened  our  salva- 
tion. Jeffers  from  the  very  first  took  us  in  hand,  and  in 
his  own  language  stroked  the  crew  to  victory.  You  see, 
we  were  a  crew  of  eight,  with  one  little  Balliol  man  as  cox. 
He  had  a  manual  of  all  the  duties  of  a  steward,  and  with 
that,  and  with  some  friendly  advice  from  the  old  hands,  and 
with  common  sense  and  our  remembrance  of  what  we 
ourselves  expected  when  we  were  passengers  we  came  out 
on  top.  It  was  indeed  dramatic  justice  that  we,  i  e  Oxford 
men  who  in  our  day  had  looked  askance  at  all  Canadians 
as  uppish,  were  now  their  humble  servants. 

"I  mimicked  the  manner  of  Silas,  my  old  scout  at  Christ 
Church,  admirable  soul,  and  dropped  my  aitches  like  a 
true-bom  Cockney.  But  unlike  that  of  Silas  my  service 
was  beyond  reproach.  I  anticipated  every  wish,  brought 
grape  fruit  or  a  slice  of  melon  and  a  cup  of  tea  with  thin 
bread  and  butter  to  each  of  my  passengers  at  seven,  never 
murmured  when  they  asked  for  breakfast  in  bed,  valeted 
them,  polished  their  buttons,  piled  up  William  pears  in  the 
fruit-dishes  at  my  table  when  the  rest  had  only  last  year's 
apples,  never  kept  any  one  waiting  and  made  myself  so 


DRUMS  AFAR 


327 


generally  useful  that  none  of  them  went  ofF  without  giving 
me  at  least  ten  dollars — one  gave  lifty.  Yes,  my  dear,  your 
sarcasm  hurt  me  when  you  talked  of  tips,  but  Jeffers  taught 
us  otherwise.  He  said  that  for  the  sake  of  his  pal  in 
Montreal  we  must  earn  our  keep  and  play  the  game,  and 
we  did  play  it,  every  man  Jack  of  us,  down  to  the  Balliol 
man  who  worked  in  the  scullery. 

"I  used  to  sneer  at  Balliol  men,  but  now  I  take  off  my 
hat  to  them — more  especialy  to  one,  the  Honourable 
Algernon  Augustus  Clarence  Mountjoy,  who  on  this  voyage 
washed  the  dishes.  Poor  devil,  he  was  seasick  on  the  river 
before  the  vessel  started,  but  though  he  suffered  agonies 
all  the  way  across  he  stuck  to  his  job  like  a  man. 

"One  night  we  all  started  rotting  him  about  Balliol,  and 
at  once  out  of  a  meek  little  dish-washer  he  became  a  regular 
spitfire.  Afterwards  I  took  him  aside  and  calmed  him 
down,  and  he  poured  out  his  whole  diminutive  soul  to  me. 
It  was  all  tied  up  in  Balliol.  He  quoted  verses  by  Hilaire 
Belloc  which  I  had  never  heard  before  but  which  seemed 
to  me  superb.    This  is  one  of  them : 

"Here  is  a  House  that  armours  a  man 
With  the  eyes  of  a  boy  and  the  heart  of  a  ranger 
And  a  laughing  way  in  the  teeth  of  the  world 
And  a  holy  hunger  for  thirst  and  danger; 
Balliol  made  me,  Balliol  fed  me, 
Whatever  I  had  she  gave  me  again; 
And  the  best  of  Balliol  loved  me  and  led  me ; 
God  be  with  you,  Balliol  men." 

"Out  of  our  nine  Oxford  men,  three  were  rowing  blues 
(two  Magdalen,  one  New  College),  and  all  the  rest  had 
rowed  for  their  College  either  in  Eights  or  Torpids.  On 
the  river  I  should  probably  have  been  the  weakest  of  the 
crew,  but  as  a  steward  Jeffers  said  I  gave  them  all  points. 

"We  left  the  shores  of  Canada  in  three  great  lines.  The 
Virginian  was  on  the  right  in  the  centre  of  the  line  with  the 
Corinthian  just  ahead.  We  went  slow  so  as  to  keep  to- 
gether and  prayed  that  it  should  not  be  rough.  Nearly  all 
our  passage  was  calm,  and  the  only  one  really  unhappy  was 


W^ 


328 


DRUMS  AFAR 


the  Honourable  Algernon  Augustus,  etc.  With  us,  though 
mostly  out  of  sight,  were  at  least  four  battleships,  and  on 
the  second  day  out  the  Dreadrtought  Clory  came  to  look  us 
over.  (,')ne  fine  day  we  saw  the  Princess  Royal,  a  Super- 
dreadnought  with  a  terrific  speed  which  looked  as  if  it  could 
by  itself  stand  up  against  the  whole  German  fleet.  Who 
would  have  thought  that  the  little  Canadian  Army  would 
get  such  attention  from  the  Lords  of  the  Admiralty? 
This  was  one  Naval  Review  the  Kaiser  was  sorry  he  could 
not  attend. 

"As  we  came  nearer  England,  H.  M.  S.  Majestic,  another 
Dreadnought,  hove  in  sight,  and  the  approach  to  Plymouth 
swarmed  with  destroyers  and  torpedo-boats.  The  coming  of 
our  Armada  evidently  had  made  .-n  impression,  and  Plymouth 
1  loe  was  black  with  people  who  had  gathered  to  see  us. 

"After  another  day  of  waiting,  the  Canadians  went  oflf 
to  Salisbury  Plain.  Jetfers  worked  the  oracle  for  me  and 
the  rest  of  the  eight  so  that  we  were  paid  off,  and  at  last 
after  one  solid  month  on  board  ship  arrived  in  London. 
Now  I  am  a  full-fledged  private  in  the  Public  Schools 
Battalion  of  the  Royal  Fusiliers,  and  kicking  myself  be- 
cause I  never  joined  the  O.T.C.  (Officers'  Training  Corps) 
at  Christ  Church.  Still  I  can  see  this  is  the  highway  to  a 
commission,  and  the  hard  work  does  me  good — have 
dropped  three  j'ounds  alreai;^-  ci  too,  too  solid  flesh. 

"My  dear,  there  are  hatefn.  nanours  n  the  air.  Kitchen- 
er, they  say,  is  too  old  and  ^a?-  twai  ^lo  long  in  the  East. 
There  are  too  many  Ger-rgrr-  :iisii  ar  in  the  ranks  of 
both  Army  and  Xavv.  W-  ngffL,  nm  naif  a  million  but 
five  million  nwn  to  wir  the  war  I  ramk  if  you  were  in 
England  now,  Xuideint.  ane  htgrni  -visax  I  hear,  you  would 
see  that  I  did  nirht  kj   tiissl 

"Till  !«;  rmsjT  a^am, 

"Charles." 

His  second  le~^r  innst  -svt  coisairaed  some  information 
that  the  censor  die  not  -visfc  rc^  :^  abroad  for  t  arrived 
in  such  mutilar«d  yrrm  rust  isse  v-as  legible  except  the 
terms  of  endeamein. 

The  third  «"~r  ("vwacnstF?  cc^^trd  harmless : 


DRUMS  Al'AR 


329 


"My  dearest  Madei,ine, 

"I  had  a  day's  leave  yesterday  and  used  it  up  at  Oxford. 
What  a  change  is  there!  Although  it  is  full  term,  the 
lecture  rooms  are  empty,  hall  is  deserted,  and  the  usual 
afternoon  swarm  of  rowinj?  men  in  shorts  and  sweaters 
and  scarfs  and  blazers  pouring  down  through  Meadows  to 
the  barges  swarms  no  more.  Hardly  an  undergraduate, 
except  some  crocks  and  Indians  and — Americans — well, 
their  call  has  yet  to  come. 

"The  Dons  are  much  perturbed  at  the  possibility  of 
Zeppelins  attacking  Magdalen  Tower,  the  loveliest  thing  in 
England,  but  are  busy  in  the  meanwhile  turning  their  col- 
leges into  convalescent  homes.  The  Examination  Schools, 
in  which  three  thousand  youths  each  year  used  to  suffer 
agonies  worse  than  most  operations,  are  now  transformed 
into  a  hospital  with  cases  which  I  believe  are  sick,  not 
wounded.  I  think  of  the  hours  I  spent  on  the  rack  in 
that  resplendent  torture  chamber,  and  rejoice  that  the  scene 
of  such  mental  anguish  now  is  changed  to  the  alleviation 
of  physical  distress. 

"If  ever  I  am  wounded,  let  me  come  here  to  convalesce. 
Surely  it  were  easy  to  get  well  again  among  these  quiet 
buildings  with  their  grey  quadrangles  and  pinnacled  square 
towers  and  swards  and  lovely  gardens.  Oxford  as  yet  is 
only  a  name  to  you— you  never  saw  this  city  of  a  thousand 
years.  And  yet  I  think,  if  only  you  had  seen  it  for  an 
hour,  you  would  have  fallen  in  love  with  its  serenity. 
Serene  it  is,  even  though  its  streets  be  thronged  with  eager 
youth — how  much  more  serene  when  youth  has  flown ! 

"I  went  to  service  at  Christ  Church  Cathedral,  and  as 
it  chanced  one  of  the  hymns  they  sang  was  'O  Come  All 
Ye  Faithful'— ^rf^5/^  Fideles—]u%t  as  we  sang  it  together 
that  Sunday  only  four  months  ago  in  the  church  of  St. 
Margaret's,  Westminster.  I  shut  my  eyes  and  fancied  I 
could  hear  your  voice  beside  me  still. 

"Some  day  we  must  stand  together  in  that  Cathedral 
and  look  up  at  the  delicate  tracery  on  the  roof  over  the 
chancel  and  at  the  eight-petalled  rose-window  above  the 
altar.     Behind  the  altar  are  two  Norman  arches  and  the 


l^S^^^W 


I  i 


330 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Cathedral  itself  is  mostly  Norman,  dating  from  the  days 
when  your  ancestors  and  mine  were  very  likely  neighbours. 

"I  don't  know  whether  the  bells  in  the  bell  tower  at 
Christ  Church  are  Norman  too,  but  they  came  from  Osney 
Abbey  which  was  Norman.  The  rhyme  which  names  them 
runs :  'Hautclerc,  Douce,  Clement,  Austin,  Marie,  Gabriel  et 
John'— a  musical  company,  is  it  not?— just  right  for  wed- 
ding bells. 

"But  the  sweetest  of  all  to  me  is  the  sound  of  the  great 
bell  Tom,  who  gave  to  Tom  Quad  its  name,  Great  Tom 
who  rings  every  night  at  nine  o'clock  one  hundred  and 
ten  notes  in  a  deep  B  flat.  His  echoes  will  surely  ring  in 
the  ears  of  most  Oxford  men  until  all  echoes  are  lost  in 
the  sound  of  the  Last  Trump. 

"There  goes  Reveille — Good-bye. 

"Ever  your  loving, 

"Charles." 

Another  letter  which  reached  Madeline  early  in  Decem- 
ber read  as  follows : — 

"Dearest, 

"How  happy  I  was  to  get  your  postcard.  I  know  now 
that  you  are  not  going  to  cut  me  off  altogether. 

"I  saw  the  notice  of  your  concert  in  a  Chicago  paper — 
your  mother's  dearly  beloved  Daily  News.  It  has  an  office 
off  Trafalgar  Square  with  a  sign  that  you  can't  miss,  so 
last  time  I  was  on  leave  I  dropped  in  to  put  my  name  down 
as  a  subscriber.  Sing  away,  sweetheart— €very  time  you 
sing  in  public  I  shall  hear  of  it,  for  you  evidently  made  a 
big  hit  with  that  wonderful  deep  voice  of  yours.  I  wish 
the  fellow  who  wrote  the  criticism  had  said  less  about  your 
soul  and  more  about  your  dress — I  could  have  pictured 
you  better  if  he  had  given  the  colour  and  style. 

"When  we  were  at  Lake  Geneva,  we  used  to  tell  each 
other  all  our  inmost  thoughts,  and  in  these  letters  I  shall 
keep  on  telling  you  mine.  Just  now  of  course  I  live  on  war, 
or  rather  on  the  preparations  for  war :  drills,  rifle  practice, 
marching,  fatigues,  pickets,  guards  and  bayonet  exercise 
— that's  what  worries  me  most.    Can  I  ever  bring  myself 


DRUMS  AFAR 


331 


to  stab  a  real  human  German  with  that  ghastly  weapon? 
Do  I  hate  the  breed  so  much  ?  With  a  rifle  at  five  hundred 
yards  it  would  be  different — one  wouldn't  see  the  blood  or 
hear  the  death-rattle,  but  this  hand  to  hand  butchery  is 
another  thing.  What  if  I  met  my  friend  Karl  Schmidt, 
the  chemist  son  of  dear  old  Frau  Pastorin,  with  whom 
I  spent  such  happy  days  at  Gottingen?  Could  I  ever  de- 
liberately spike  him  against  a  wall  ? 

"I  wonder  how  much  war  there  would  be  if  all  the 
autocrats  and  bureaucrats  were  swept  away  and  the  de- 
cision rested  with  those  who  had  actually  to  do  the  fight- 
ing. From  what  I  read  and  hear,  the  French  people 
had  no  voice  in  the  .  'atter.  The  avalanche  swept  upon 
them  unawares.  Even  more  so  with  the  Belgians,  who 
now  are  flooding  England  with  their  tales  of  horror.  So, 
too,  I  believe  it  is  with  the  vast  proportion  of  the  Germans 
themselves,  who  kill  because  they  have  been  told  to  kill, 
not  because  they  like  it.  They  more  than  any  other  nation 
are  in  the  hands  of  a  military  clique. 

"And  yet  the  feeling  of  race  is  above  all  logic  or  reason, 
and  even  though  I  knew  that  England  was  wrong  to  fight 
—and  after  all  she  was  not  wrong— I  could  never  have 
forgiven  myself  if  I  had  stayed  out  of  the  struggle.  I 
should  have  been  that  wretchedest  of  creatures,  the  Man 
without  a  Country.  I  shall  just  have  to  steel  myself  to 
carry  through — discipline,  I  suppose  will  do  it — so  I  am 
shirking  nothing  that  will  make  me  a  better  soldier. 

"The  avalanche  has  started,  and  nothing  can  stop  it  now. 
All  we  ca  i  do  is  to  divert  it,  so  that  our  own  great  heritage 
should  not  be  overwhelmed. 

"Ever  your  fa    .ful 

"Charles." 

In  January  she  received  a  letter  that  caused  her  some 
disquiet : 

"Dearest  Madeline, 

"Three  postcards  from  you  now — thrice  happy  I. 

"The  last  arrived  on  New  Year's  Day.  This  is  going  to  be 
a  wonderful  New  Year  for  me. 


ll      i 


332 


DRUMS  AFAR 


;  ; 


ll 


1 


h 


"My  father  has  quite  a  pull  in  Government  circles  and 
last  week  wangled  a  commission  for  me  so  that  I  am  now 
Second  Lieutenant  Fitzmorris  of  the  — th  (deleted  by 
Censor)  Battalion,  Royal  Warwickshire  Regiment.  While 
up  at  the  War  Office  he  met  an  Intelligence  Johnnie  who 
expressed  a  wish  to  meet  me,  so  he  arranged  a  lunch  at  the 
Junior  Carlton.  I  thought  this  Johnnie  rather  inquisitive- 
asked  me  all  about  America,  when  I  got  back,  and  so  forth. 
I  told  him  everything  quite  frankly  and  was  glad  I  did, 
for  when  I  had  finished  my  Arabian  Night's  Tale  he  re- 
marked 'That  agrees  exactly  with  your  German  dossier.' 
I  nearly  fell  off  my  chair.  'What  do  you  mean?'  I  asked. 
Whereat  he  took  a  sheet  of  paper  out  of  his  pocket,  saying, 
'Here  is  the  translation  of  a  page  from  the  archives  of  the 
German  espionage  headquarters: 

'"Fitzmorris,  Charles— height  1.83  metres;  hair  blond, 
curly;  eyes  light  blue;  face  square;  finger-print  attached. 
Speaks  German  fluently  with  more  Hanoverian  than  Eng- 
lish accent. 

"'September,  1911 — found  under  suspicious  circumstan- 
ces studying  roads  and  places  of  military  importance  between 
Kriit  in  Alsace  and  frontier  during  secret  manoeuvres.  Car- 
ried military  maps  out  of  date  but  instructive.  Claimed 
to  be  student  of  history  at  Oxford.  Known  to  have  sent 
numerous  apparently  innocuous  postcards  to  American  lady 
by  name  Madeline  Raymond  ostensibly  studying  music  and 
residing  formerly  at  same  pension  in  Strasburg  with  whom 
and  her  alleged  mother  he  had  made  extensive  motor-trips. 
Identified  by  Rww  and  released  with  caution.  Shortly 
after  left  Germany  by  unusual  tourist  route  and  spent  day 
at  Trier  during  important  troop  movements. 

"  'December,  1911,  to  January,  1912— Reported  by  Cpp  as 
having  made  careful  study  of  military  roads  in  Belgium 
and  France  (Nord)  on  pretext  of  studying  campaigns  of 
MarUH)rough.    Speaks  excellent  French. 

"  April,  1 91 2— Repeated  visit  to  Belgium  on  same  pretexc. 

'"August,  1912— Passed  Final  Examinations  in  History 
at  Oxford  University  with  honours.    Answers  to  examina- 


DRUMS  AFAR 


333 


tion  papers  secured  by  Lbb,  and  those  dealing  with  cam- 
paigns on  Rhine  and  in  Alsace  sent  for  report  to  Staff- 
General  V.  Clausewitz.  Report  (attached)  states  grasp  of 
military  topography  shown  by  C.F.  quite  remarkable  and 
recommends  C.  F.  be  kept  under  close  observation,  particu- 
larly if  he  enters  British  army  or  associates  with  suspects. 

"'May,  191 3 — Reported  as  active  director  of  illustrated 
weekly  newspaper  P^nonrfP^nctV,  responsible  for  sensational 
number  on  "The  Coming  War  Between  Slav  and  Teuton." 

"  'July,  1914 — Sailed  for  New  York  as  cabin  passenger  on 
s.s.  St.  Louis.  On  day  of  landing  left  for  Boston  with 
fellow  passengers  Raymond  of  Chicago  (cf.  item  Septem- 
ber, 191 1 ).  Same  company  to  Newport,  Rhode  Island 
(naval  station)  with  which  he  had  been  in  wireless  com- 
munication during  voyage.  Same  company  to  Chicago 
where  he  resided  with  lawyer  Michael  Kelly,  Irish- American 
but  Anglophil.  Cabled  twice  to  father  in  London.  Replies 
evidently  in  secret  code. 

"  'August,  i9i4^Father  of  C.F.  appointed  to  important 
post  in  British  Treasury.  CF.  resided  with  Raymonds  at 
Lake  Geneva,  summer  resort  Wisconsin.  Motored  with 
Madeline  Raymond  alone  frequently  through  foreign  set- 
tlements (including  German)  of  that  State.  Paid  several 
visits  to  (Chicago  to  purchase  maps  of  war  area. 

"  'September,  1914 — Left  with  Madeline  Raymond  and 
father  Henry  Raymond  ostensibly  on  hunting  trip  to  Nova 
Scotia.  Stopped  off  at  Montreal  and  leaving  Raymonds 
shipped  disguised  as  steward  on  s.s.  Virginian  after  visit 
to  steamship  official  known  to  be  in  confidence  of  British 
Government.  Probably  spy  in  British  service  looking  out  for 
Kmm  who  however  was  warned  in  time.  Tkk  detailed  to 
watch  Raymonds  (see  file  Raymond  Madeline  and  Henry). 

"'October,  191 4— Immediately  on  arrival  Plymouth  leift 
for  London  with  eight  other  stewards,  all  of  whom  travelled 
first  class  on  train.  Joined  Pu  c  Schools  Battalion  of  the 
Royal  Fusiliers  as  private.  nder  close  observation. 
Writes  letters  to  Madeline  Raymond  and  receives  postcard, 
copy  attached,  probably  in  secret  code.  Gvv  instructed  to 
decipher.' 


334 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"This  may  give  you  some  idea  of  the  ramifications  of  the 
German  spy  system.  Can  you  imagine  anything  more 
devilish,  more  ingenious  and  more  perverted?  The  most 
innocent  acts  are  twisted  about — your  postcards  become 
mysterious  documents.  And  yet  there  is  a  modicum  of 
truth — you  remember  my  telling  you  about  my  escapade  at 
Kriit  after  you  had  left  Strasburg.  If  all  the  German 
espionage  reports  are  made  with  equal  industry  and  equal 
lack  of  intelligence,  no  wonder  that  Berlin  imagined  Ire- 
land would  revolt,  India  would  break  adrift,  and  the 
British  Colonies  would  £»and  aloof. 

"The  'Rww'  referred  to  was  evidently  Baron  v.  Gleyn, 
the  Rhodes  Scholar  from  Berlin  at  Christ  Church  whom  we 
always  nicknamed  'Kaiser  Bill's  Best  Friend.' 

"What  does  please  me  in  this  affair  is  that  Staff-General 
v.  Oausewltz  should  have  thought  so  much  of  my  examina- 
tion papers.  I  wish  he  had  had  the  giving  of  degrees.  I 
might  then  have  got  a  First  Class  instead  of  my  Second, 
but  then  I  might  have  become  a  Don,  and  never  tried  my 
luck  in  Fleet  Street,  and  never  heard  of  your  concert,  and 
never  met  you  again!  So  after  all,  thank  heaven  I  was 
judged  by  a  mere  Englishman! 

"After  I  had  got  over  the  shock  of  perusing  this  docu- 
ment, I  was  relieved  to  think  that  our  fellows  alno  were 
not  asleep— otherwise  how  could  they  have  secured  this 
remarkable  document? 

"The  result  of  it  all  is  that  I  have  now  a  War  Office 
appointment  in  prospect,  and  expect  more  intellectual  em- 
ployment. No  time  for  more  just  now,  but  remember  the 
note  'Tkk  detailed  to  watch  Raymonds.'  1  hope  this  means 
no  inconvenience  to  you.  Better  let  your  father  know,  as 
this  German  spy  may  do  some  burglaring  to  pass  the  time 
between  postcards. 

"I  don't  think  I  have  said  anything  indiscreet  in  my  let- 
ters to  you.  dear,  but  better  bum  my  letters.  I  may  have  to 
write  less  in  future.  You  won't  be  angry,  will  you,  dear' 
You  understand?    This  revelation  makes  me  nervous. 

"Ever  your  loving 

"Charles." 


DRUMS  AFAR  335 

This  was  followed  ten  days  later  by  a  letter  from  Paris. 

"Dearest  Madeline, 

"Things  are  moving  fast  now. 

"I  have  been  in  the  front  line  trenches  in  Flanders,  and 
also  have  seen  the  devastation  wrought  by  the  Germans  on 
the  Marne.  If  I  had  any  doubts  before  as  to  the  right  to 
kill  these  fiends,  they  are  all  gone  now.  They  are  beyond 
the  pale.  If  only  the  bare  facts  of  the  way  they  treated 
the  women  were  printed  in  American  newspapers,  the 
United  States  surely  could  not  stay  neutral.  Nothing  so 
terrible  has  happened  in  Europe  these  ten  centuries. 

"I  have  written  and  send  you  a  poem  which  I  am  also 
sending  to  Life — so  far  as  we  can  see  here,  the  most 
courageous  of  your  American  publications.  If  they  print 
it,  cut  it  out  and  paste  it  on  one  of  your  postcards.    Here 

it  is: — 

In  the  German  School 

B  for  the  Blood  that  Stains  all  Flanders  Red. 

E  for  the  Exile  Brooding  o'er  Her  Dead. 

L  for  the  I  ^sh  on  the  Unhappy  Slave. 

G  for  the  Gallows  at  the  Convent  Door. 

I  for  the  Innocence  No  Girl  Could  Save. 

U  for  the  Unborn,  Better  No  Wife  Bore. 

M  for  the  Last  Sad  Mercy  of  the  Grave. 

"I  had  promised  to  write  to  you  every  week,  but  fate 
alas  is  forcing  me  once  more  to  break  my  promise !  I  am 
attached  now  to  the  French  army,  and  expect  to  go  in  a  few 
days  on  a  confidential  mission,  sj  confidential  that  it  is 
better  I  should  not  write  to  any  one  at  all.  This  letter 
therefore  is  to  say  Good-bye — you  may  not  hear  of  me,  or 
from  me,  till  the  end  of  the  war.  If  you  do,  it  will  probably 
be  that  I  am  wounded,  or 

"Dearest  heart,  I  have  your  miniature  with  a  lock  of  your 
hair,  and  the  pin  wiih  the  inscription 

'Madeline  Raymond  to  Charles   Fitzmorris 
Who  did  his  little  bit.' 


336 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"Well,  rn,  going  to  "do  m^'^  P  '^^^"^i  *e 
..Everything  else  mus,^^^  'l^TtXes,  you  know  and 
:rwmrrfir7t*t"  tease  of  aecident.    He  has 

-;;Letrd:atTLtthTean  I  say  n,o«  «cept  that 
I  love  you,  and  I  love  you.  and  I  love  y°"„^,^^^,. 

After  a  night  of  bitter  tears  Madeline  brought  the  letter 
to  her  father. 
'H'^llu'iun'.^t  as  if  spelling  it.  letter  by  letter. 

At  last,  with  a  sigh,  he  said: 
"When  do  you  want  to  go?  , 

"How  did  vou  know  I  meant  to  go?"  she  exclaimed, 
'"know  /ou  had  a  heart."  he  answered  with  a  grim 

thinking  and  thinking,—-- 
Then  with  a  catch  of  her  bream,  ,     •  ^  „„„ 

"F^Lr   I  can't  keep  on  with  this  concert  singing  any 

more     Eve^  t^e  I  s<^  these  rows  of  fat.  contented   a^^^^^^^ 

"makes  mT  iU.    I  think  of  \'<:^'Jl''?^ttTl' 
peoples  over  in  Europe  and  ask  myself     What  are  w 

""s  Ae  girl."  said  Mr.  Raymond  heartily,  "rm  «j* 
yoo     ff  you  wan!  me  to  go  to  England  w.th  you.  say  the 

"°m  nol-You  have  your  busin.«."  ^^."'-"''^ut 
Mother  had  better  stay  with  you  too.    Dont  worry  aoo 
me.    I  can  manage  alone. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THUS  it  was  that  Madeline  found  herself  a  pas- 
senger in  somewhat  mixed  company  on  the  s.s. 
New  Amsterdam  and  bound  for  England.    De- 
lightful though  the  ship  itself  was  with  its  com- 
fortable cabins  and  Japanese  Tearoom  panelled  m  lacquer 
and  inlay  and  Delft,  she  felt  all  the  time  a  mystenous 
oppression  as  if  some  one  were  watching  her-part.cularly 
after  she  found  the  lock  in  her  wntmg  case  had  been  tani- 
pered  with.    Anticipating  something  of  the  kind,  Mr.  Ray- 
mond had  amused  himself  during  the  week  before  Madeline 
Tailed  in  inventing  and  printing  a  bogus  coae,  the  endeavou 
to  understand  which  would,  he  said,  dnve  any  one    bug- 
house" within  a  week.  .  ..  j    .    ««/i 
The  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  took  eight  days,  and 
though  diUgent  inquiry  failed  to  discover  any  actual  lunatic 
on  b^ard  on  the  last  day  the  distracted  and  careworn  ap- 
pearance of  a  passenger  in  the  adjoining  cabm.  ^^^y/^T 
Chicago  who  claimed  acquaintance  with  her  father  and  who 
at  first  had  been  particularly  ingratiating  bu   who  became 
ruder  and  ruder  as  time  flew  by,  gave  Madeline  a  shrewd 
suspicion  as  to  the  identity  of  the  unknown    Tkk. 

There  were  numbers  of  German  Americans  on  board, 
nominally  bound  for  Holland,  but  openly  boastful  of  in- 
tended visits  to  Berlin,  and  although  all  discussion  of  the 
war  was  taboo  the  passengers  soon  automatically  divided 
into  three  groups,  Pro-Ally.  Neutral  ^nd  Pro^German.    The 
nucleus  of  the  first  of  these  was  formed  by  Canadian  moth 
ers  and  wives  and  sisters  going  to  England  to  be  nearer 
their  soldiers.    Among  these  Madeline  ^^^^ ^°f^^''^^^^' 
all  the  more  so  when  they  found  that  she  ^ad  Canadian 
ancestry  and  had  a  fiance  in  the  Bntish  Army.    The  Neutra 
Americans  overheard  disparaging  remarks  by  )ndiscreet 
Pro-Allies,  and  showed  their  resentment  by  keeping  aloof. 

337 


ri 


I   I 


338 


DRUMS  AFAR 


Arrived  in  London,  Madeline  at  once  called  up  Mr.  Fitz- 
morris,  and  over  a  dainty  luncheon  in  Jermyn  Street  fell 
in  love  with  that  amiable  character.  He  was  now,  he  said, 
a  grass  widower,  as  his  wife  had  deserted  him  for  her 
convalescent  home  in  Surrey,  while  his  unmarried  daughter 
was  now  doing  V.  A.  D.  work  in  Devon. 

She  confessed  to  him  that  her  heart's  desire  was  to  learn 
to  nurse,  for  even  before  she  left  Chicago  she  had  decided 
that  mere  singing  to  the  wounded  and  the  refugee  was  in- 
sufficient vocation,  and  that  if  Charles  should  ever  come 
back  maimed  she  must  be  the  one  to  look  after  him. 

Her  Canadian  steamer  friends  could  not  help  her  in  this 
ambition,  for  only  fully  qualified  nurses  of  at  least  three 
years'  standing  were  accepted  by  the  Canadian  Red  Cross. 
England,  however,  was  getting  ready  to  become  a  gigantic 
hospital,  and  the  happy  way  of  the  St.  John  Ambulance 
and  the  V.  A.  D.  was  open  to  the  less  certificated. 

From  the  experience  of  his  daughter  Mr.  Fitzmorris  was 
able  to  show  Madeline  all  the  back  ways  into  a  hitherto 
haughty  profession,  and  for  four  months  she  worked  hard 
at  First  Aid,  Home  Nursing,  Hypene  and  Sanitation.  The 
work  had  to  be  done  amid  many  distractions,  for  houses 
which  she  could  otherwise  have  broken  into  only  with  a 
pole-axe,  now  took  no  "No"  from  this  accomplished  sympa- 
thizer from  Chicago,  so  that  she  survived  the  surfeit  of 
luncheons,  teas,  at  homes,  bazaars  and  dinners,  on  top  of 
demands  for  a  thousand  and  one  performances  for  charity, 
only  by  dint  of  rude  health  and  a  nimble  brain. 

Then  came  the  wave  of  horror  that  swept  through  Eng- 
land at  :he  loss  of  the  Lusitania.  If  she  had  felt  sympa- 
thetic to  the  Allied  Cause  before,  how  much  more  so  was 
she  now  at  this  slaughter  of  the  innocents.  A  friend  of  hers, 
a  mother  of  eighteen  months,  was  drowned  with  her  baby ; 
another  escaped,  a  human  wreck,  to  sob  the  tale. 

"How  thankful  I  am,"  Madeline  wrote  to  her  father,  "that 
I  took  up  this  work  when  I  did — the  help  that  I  can  give 
now  is  a  real  help,  not  idle  words.  Tell  every  woman  you 
meet,  not  to  delay,  but  train  at  once  to  be  a  nurse.  There 
is  so  much  to  learn,  and  this  war  sweeps  along  so  swiftly. 


DRUMS  AFAR 


339 


It  is  impossible  for  the  United  States  to  stand  aloof  for 
long.    The  Writing  is  on  the  Wall." 

The  hospital  which  her  St.  John  Ambulance  certificate 
enabled  her  to  enter  was  in  the  somewhat  depressing  at- 
mosphere of  Bloomsbury,  with  trained  nurses  at  the  head 
eked  out  by  V.  A.  D.'s.  Rising  at  five  she  was  permitted 
by  a  somewhat  supercilious  Sister  during  the  day  to  arrange 
trays,  wash  faces  and  take  temperatures.  Two  months  later 
she  was  graciously  permitted  to  bind  simple  dressings  and 
was  given  more  responsible  work  in  the  wards.  The  effi- 
ciency and  willingness  shown  in  the  smallest  things  she 
did  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Matron,  who  at  the  end 
of  six  months  advanced  her  to  work  that  before  the  war 
would  only  have  been  entrusted  to  a  fully  certificated  nurse. 
The  charm  of  her  voice  made  every  one  in  the  hospital  her 
friend,  so  that  her  quick  promotion  raised  but  little  jeal- 
ousy. 

Now  she  took  up  massage,  photo-  and  hydrotherapy,  and 
eight  months  later  could  hold  her  own  at  this  with  anybody. 
She  was  still,  however,  only  a  V.  A.  D.  with  veil  tucked 
in  behind  her  hair,  not  flying  loose.  When,  therefore,  at  the 
Hospital  a  certain  Royal  Personage  was  publicly  reduced  to 
tears  by  her  sympathetic  rendering  of  "Ae  Fond  Kiss,"  and 
when  the  Daily  Mail  with  eagle  eye  and  inaccurate  phrase 
re-discovered  the  heroine  of  the  "Under  No  Patronage" 
Concert,  and  nicknamed  her  the  Singing  Sister,  she  was  em- 
barrassed lest  the  fully-fledged  Sisters  at  the  Hospital  should 
think  her  presumptuous.  The  Daily  Mirror,  whose  photog- 
rapher she  therefore  avoided,  cabled  wildly  to  Chicago  for 
her  portrait,  only  to  be  forestalled  by  Tones,  who  in  Pen 
and  Pencil  once  more  gave  her  a  page.  The  Daily  Mirror 
retorted  with  a  pen-and-ink  sketch  of  her  at  her  next  per- 
formance, describing  her  as  "that  unique  event  in  musical 
history,  a  concert  photographer  who  refuses  to  be  photo- 
graphed." 

In  due  course  Mr.  Fitzmorris  arranged  a  meeting  with 
Colonel  Belsize,  the  Intelligence  Johnnie.  This  thin,  aqui- 
line ramrod  six-footer,  with  his  monocle,  his  long  moustache 
and  his  military  drawl,  resembled  so  much  a  Colonel  out 


340 


DRUMS  AFAR 


of  Punch  that  Madeline  found  it  difficult  not  to  laugh  when- 
ever she  met  him.  But  he  was  kindness  itself,  and  showed 
such  genuine  interest  in  her  concern  for  Charles  that  she 
would  have  done  anything  for  him  short  of  falling  in  love. 

"What  I  really  do  want  you  to  do,"  she  said  one  confi- 
dential day,  "is  to  get  my  dossier  from  Berlin — the  one 
marked  Raymond  Madeline  and  Henry,  referred  to  in  one 
about  Charles." 

"H'm,  h'm,"  he  answered  a  little  stiffly,  "the  fellow  who 
got  that  is  now  too  cold  to  be  even  sorry.  He  lies  in  a 
prison  underground,  six  feet  by  two,  somewhere  in  Ger- 
many.   But  still — for  a  lady — one  could  at  least  try." 

"Oh,  not  yourself !"  she  exclaimed. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked  with  elephantine  tenderness. 

"Why,"  she  answered,  "because  then  I  would  have  no  one 
to  tell  me  about  Charles." 

"To  be  sure — to  be  sure " 

But  the  dossier  was  never  produced. 

Sunday  evenings  she  always  tried  to  reserve  for  Mr. 
Fitzmorris  to  whose  room  she  came  and  sang  the  old-fash- 
ioned songs  he  loved :  "By  Dimpled  Brook,"  "Cupid's  Gar- 
den," "The  Milking  Pail,"  "Primroses  Deck  the  Bank's 
Green  Side."  These  were  the  songs  that  old  Mr.  Mainwar- 
ing  also  seemed  to  like,  so  she  brought  the  two  together, 
the  artist  and  the  stock  broker,  and  very  friendly  they  be- 
came— widely  differing  though  their  tastes  and  sympathies 
were  in  other  directions. 

The  Mainwarings  could  not  hear  too  much  of  the  city 
where  Viola  lived,  and  Madeline  felt  sometimes  as  if  the 
pleasure  she  seemed  to  give  these  elderly  folk  was  itself  re- 
ward for  her  trip  across  the  Atlantic.  Frank  Mainwaring 
she  did  not  meet.  He  was  now  in  France  but  more  or  less 
safely  employed  in  camouflage. 

Jones,  the  editor  of  Pen  and  Pencil,  was  another  of 
Charles's  friends  whom  she  sought  out  and  found  delight- 
ful. Unlike  Charles,  who  had  never  pursued  this  much 
married  man  to  his  lair  and  to  whom  the  little  Joneses  were 
intangible  nightmares,  she  visited  his  overcrowded  but  con- 
tented suburb,  played  and  sang  herself  into  the  hearts  of 


DRUMS  AFAR 


341 


the  little  ones,  brought  them  Fuller  candies,  persuaded  the 
three  youngest  of  them  that  Fairyland  was  merely  another 
name  for  America. 

Jones  unearthed  for  her  benefit,  from  the  files  of  Pen  and 
Pencil,  some  of  Charles's  two  and  a  half  inch  poems,  and 
these  she  now  treasured  with  the  care  a  mother  keeps  the 
first  school  exercises  of  her  children.  Some  of  the  poems 
were  immature,  but  some  again  seemed  to  her  to  express 
the  feeling  and  colour  and  the  atmosphere  of  the  England 
she  herself  was  beginning  to  love. 

The  desire  to  know  and  to  make  herself  pleasant  to 
Charles's  friends  had  a  softening  and  sweetening  effect  upon 
her  character.  The  tenderness  which  had  enveloped  every 
thought  of  him  made  her  more  human  than  she  might  have 
been  if  he  had  still  pursued  and  wooed  her.  Every  day 
she  seemed  to  become  more  womanly  and  less  queenly; 
and,  when  her  father  paid  a  flying  visit  to  England  in  Octo- 
ber, he  was  secretly  delighted  at  the  change.  For,  though 
he  had  been  impressed  by  her  bravura  when  she  first  re- 
turned to  Europe,  this  was  a  quality  more  to  admire  than 
to  love. 

The  fever  that  infected  all  who  worked  with  her  in  the 
hospital  came  over  Madeline  also — to  get  to  France  and  see 
something  nearer  the  front.  The  opportunity  came  through 
an  actress  who  asked  her  to  join  a  troup  of  entertainers  vis- 
iting the  Recreation  Huts  and  Theatres  behind  the  billets 
in  a  certain  part  of  France. 

The  Hospital  gave  her  a  short  leave,  so  for  one  thrilling 
fortnight  she  entered  and  helped  to  bring  light  into  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow. 

Hardly  had  she  come  back  to  England  when  the  dread 
news  arrived.    Colonel  Belsize  sent  her  a  note: 

"Charles  is  wounded — seriously  but  not  fatally.  He  has 
been  brought  back  from  a  poste  de  secours  to  the  hopital 
d'evacuatton  at  Creil.  Yow  must  be  patient  and  wait  till  he 
is  well  enough  to  be  transferred  to  a  base  hospital  before 
you  can  see  him,  as  the  French  authorities  are  opposed  to 
any  one  not  engaged  in  military  duty  going  into  the  war 


i  i 


II 


342 


DRUMS  AFAR 


zone.  He  is  in  good  hands.  Be  patient,  my  dear  Miss  Ray- 
mond— it  will  not  be  long  now. 

"The  wound  is  in  the  left  arm,  and  there  is  shell  shock 
which  affects  the  lower  part  of  the  body.  Brain  perfectly 
sound.  If  there  are  no  complications,  he  may  be  moved  in 
a  week." 

The  week  passed  into  a  month  of  growing  anxiety,  and 
still  Charles  was  not  transferred.  Then  Colonel  Belsize 
himself  went  over  with  authority  and  promised  to  bring  back 
better  news. 

The  news  was  bitter  mixed  with  sweet. 

"The  operation,"  he  began,  "was  successful." 

"What  operation?"    She  suddenly  felt  faint. 

"His  arm — it  had  to  go.  But  he  will  be  here  now  defi- 
nitely in  three  weeks.  I  myself  brought  him  to  Royaumont 
— it  was  just  in  time.  There  is  so  much  to  do  at  the  hos- 
pitals in  the  war  zone — everything  has  to  be  rough  and 
ready.  But  these  women  doctors  at  Royaumont  are  won- 
ders— they  deserve  to  get  the  vote— -they  will  pull  him 
through.     Before  I  left  I  was  assured  he  was  out  of  danger." 

Madeline  knew  all  about  this  Scottish  Women's  Hospital, 
established  by  former  militant  suffragettes,  in  the  beautiful 
old  French  Abbey,  and  was  consoled  that  he  was  in  such 
hands,  though  shocked  at  his  loss. 

"Does  he  know  I  am  here?"  she  asked. 

"He  was  unconscious  when  I  saw  him,"  replied  the 
Colonel.  "I  thought  perhaps  you  might  like  to  tell  him 
yourself.  But  I  secured  more  details  of  how  he  got  his 
wound.  He  had  been  scouting  by  himself  in  particularly 
dangerous  country  and  was  bringing  back  some  priceless 
information  when  a  stray  shell  got  him.  His  report  was 
fortunately  written  down  in  that  small  clear  script  which 
you  probably  know,  so  that  his  mission  was  successful.  He 
must  have  been  wonderfully  cool  because  in  the  same  note- 
book, evidently  written  at  the  same  time  in  the  shell  hole 
was  a  little  poem  which  he  must  have  composed  while  wait- 
ing. Here  it  is— I  got  it  from  a  friend  at  French  Head- 
quarters, who  knows  Eng)'  '  well  and  was  deeply  inter- 
ested : 


DRUMS  AFAR  343 

'From  the  grey  sky 

A  little  white  snowflake 

Came  floating,  and  I 

Laughingly  sought  to  take 

This  for  a  kiss.    So  near 

It  came !    But  death 

Lay  in  that  warm  breath 

And  touched  my  cheek  with  a  teai.' 

There  was  more  than  one  cheek  touched  with  a  tear. 

"Now,"  said  the  Colonel,  "shall  I  get  you  permission  to 
go  to  Royaumont  ?    It  is  not  very  far  from  Paris." 

Madeline  did  not  answer  for  a  while. 

"No,"  she  said  at  last.  "Not  now.  I  shall  wait  till  he 
comes  over." 

Colonel  Belsize  was  evidently  astonished. 

"You  women  are  incomprehensible,"  he  said.  "For  the 
last  month  you  have  been  ready  to  move  heaven  and  earth 
to  go  to  Charles  in  the  forbidden  zone,  and  now  when  he 
is  in  the  permissible  Royaumont,  you  say  'No,  I  shall  wait.'  " 

"It  isn't  that  I  don't  long  to  go,"  she  answered,  "but 
since  you  went  to  France  I  have  been  thinking  things  over. 
You  must  remember  that  I  have  been  in  France  myself  and 
know  conditions  there.  This  is  no  time  for  joy-riding,  and 
it  is  not  fair  to  those  who  are  so  overwhelmed  with  work 
thj>t  anj  one  not  absolutely  needed  should  come  along.  I 
was  too  selfish  once  before,  and  I  have  learned  my  lesson. 
Charles  when  he  knows  will  understand.  Now  that  you  say 
he  is  out  of  danger,  I  have  a  better  plan,  I  want  you  to 
use  your  influence  so  that  when  he  is  removed  to  England, 
he  is  brought  to  our  hospital  here,  into  a  private  ward.  I 
can  arrange  the  rest.  But  don't  let  him  know  that  I  am 
here  or  tliat  he  will  be  under  my  care.  It  must  be  all  a 
surprise." 

"If  Charles  was  cool-headed,"  said  the  Intelligence  John- 
nie, "so  are  you.  I  wish  I  could  be  in  the  from  row  when 
the  play  is  staged." 


I 


f  i 


Ij 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE  night  which  shrouded  London  seemed  all  the 
darker  for  the  shaded  lamps  which  were  all  that 
the  military  authorities  allowed  in  these  days  of 
Zeppelins.  Even  inside  the  station  at  Charing 
Cross  there  was  barely  enough  light  to  distinguish  the  plat- 
form from  the  track.  Those  passengers  who  did  arrive 
by  any  train  hurried  away  as  quickly  as  they  could  to  home 
or  hotel  where  behind  the  blinds  one  at  least  could  see. 

The  Red  Cross  train  was  due  from  France,  and  Made- 
line, who  had  made  all  the  necessary  rrangements  for 
Charles's  reception  at  the  hospital,  arrax.^  ments  in  which 
for  a  time  at  least  she  would  stay  in  the  unseen  background, 
had  come  to  see  this  train  come  in. 

Dark  rings  surrounded  her  dark  eyes,  for  the  strain  of 
anxious  waiting  was  beginning  to  tell  and  it  seemed  as  if 
she  could  not  smile — ^yet  smile  she  did  each  time  in  the 
gloom  she  deciphered  a  large  sign  in  three  languages  of 
which  one  read  "Fahrkarten  Ausgabe" — some  of  these  Eng- 
lish had  apparently  not  yet,  after  two  years,  awakened  to 
the  fact  that  there  was  war  with  Germany. 

Then  at  the  west  side  of  the  station  one  of  the  arc  lamps 
spluttered  into  a  bright  violet,  then  another,  and  so  on  till 
the  platform  shone  with  a  strange  brilliance.  A  crowd  had 
gathered  now  and  lined  the  road  from  the  platform  gates 
to  the  arched  exit  from  the  station — men  in  blue  uniforms 
with  white  caps  were  moving  in,  and  on  the  platform  itself 
one  could  see  motor  cars  and  a  row  of  covered  vans  on 
the  side  of  which  was  painted  the  Red  Cross. 

Madeline  joined  the  crowd  and  peered  over  to  the  high 
gates  which  kept  the  platform  private.  So  quietly  one 
hardly  knew  it  entered,  the  Red  Cross  train  moved  in.  She 
could  see  the  carriage  doors  thrown  open  and  the  white  caps 
of  the  ambulance  men  moving  here  and  there.  Some  of 
the  wounded  were  able  to  hobble  out  themselves,  others 
were  carried  out  on  stretchers  to  the  waiting  vans. 

344 


DRUMS  AFAR 


345 


A  girl  in  the  crowd  sold  flowers  at  a  penny  a  piece  as 
fast  as  she  could  hand  them  out. 

Then  the  gates  swung  out  for  the  first  of  the  motor 
cars.  Handkerchiefs  were  waved  and  the  crowd  cheered  as 
these  wounded  officers  passed  out,  covered  with  the  roses 
that  were  showered  upon  them.  It  was  small  tribute  to 
those  who  had  gone  out  so  bravely,  but  it  was  a  beautiful 
tribute — this  rain  of  fragrant  red  and  white  roses — and 
many  that  saw  it  for  the  first  time,  and  for  the  second  time, 
and  for  the  twentieth  time,  could  not  hold  back  their  tears. 

Convalescent  these  wounded  evidently  were,  for  they 
were  cheerful  as  the  crowd  itself — were  they  not  back  in 
Blighty?— waved  their  hands  and  laughed  as  they  caught  at 
the  roses. 

"Give  me  a  dozen,"  Madeline  said  to  the  flower  girl. 

Making  them  into  a  posy  she  got  ready  to  throw  it  into 
the  next  car.  Too  late,  however,  for  it  passed  out  quickly. 
There  were,  however,  many  still  to  follow. 

"There's  more  room  outside  the  station,"  said  a  police- 
man, "you  can  see  better  from  there." 

She  followed  his  advice  and  found  that  it  was  good. 

Edging  herself  into  the  front  rank,  she  felt  her  heart  lift 
as  the  cheers  rose  and  another  car  of  wounded  came  down 
the  line.  This  held  three  officers,  one  of  whom  had  a 
Sister  beside  him.  He  was  looking  the  other  way,  but  as 
the  flowers  that  Madeline  threw  fell  against  his  breast  he 
turned  with  a  wan  smile  to  catch  them. 

She  had  not  meant  to  reveal  herself  just  yet,  but  at  sight 
of  him  all  her  reserve  broke  down. 

"Charles,"  she  cried,  "Charles!" 

In  the  cheering  her  voice  was  lost,  and  he  did  not  even 
notice  who  had  thrown  the  flowers.  Besides  in  her  long 
navy  blue  V.A.D.  coat  and  soft  golf  cap  she  looked  so  dif- 
ferent from  the  Madeline  he  had  known. 

"Back  again— he's  back  again— thank  God!"  she  said  to 
herself  as  she  slipped  out  of  the  crowd  to  the  waiting  taxi. 

"Quick!"  to  the  driver.  "Follow  that  car  with  the  Sister 
in  it— follow  right  to  the  hospital." 

Scenting  perhaps  a  mystery,  perhaps  a  romance,  the  taxi 


346 


DRUMS  AFAR 


l 


driver  nodded  cheerfully  and  starting  with  such  speed  that  he 
had  his  number  taken  by  the  outraged  policeman  whom  he 
had  almost  run  over,  he  caught  up  with  his  quarry  and  fol- 
lowed it  through  the  sombre  lights  of  London.  Up  Charing 
Cross  Road  they  went,  past  the  green  shades  of  Wyndham's 
Theatre  and  so  along  Shaftesbury  Avenue  and  across  Ox- 
ford Street  into  Russell  Square — and  so  to  the  hospital. 

"Don't  stop — pass,  on."  she  called  through  the  speaking 
tube,  and  allowed  herself  to  be  let  down  two  hundred  yards 
further  down  the  street. 

By  the  time  she  had  walked  back  to  the  hospital,  Charles 
and  his  fellow  wounded  had  been  carried  in.  She  was 
glad  now  that  he  had  not  recognized  her.  Perhaps  he  did 
not  wish  to  see  her.  It  was  eighteen  months  now  since  she 
had  heard  from  him  and  eighteen  months  of  hell  in  the 
trenches  might  well  have  killed  the  romance  which  until 
then  in  spite  of  everything  still  tied  him  to  her.  It  might 
be  now  that  his  love  was  cold,  and  then  again  there  were 
other  girls  in  France. 

She  composed  herself  sufficiently  to  ask  about  the  patient. 

"The  journey  tired  him  out,"  said  the  Head  Sister.  "He 
is  already  sleeping." 

With  a  heart  full  of  pity,  Madeline  a  little  later  stood 
beside  the  cot  where  CharLs  was  lying.  It  was  in  one  of 
the  public  wards,  as  the  private  room  would  not  be  vacant 
till  next  afternoon ;  and,  as  Colonel  Belsize  had  anticipated, 
she  had  staged  her  play.  Now  that  his  cap  was  off,  she 
could  see  the  curly  hair  was  grey,  and  the  face,  oh,  so  thin! 
Yet  it  was  the  same  old  Charles,  and  her  soul  went  out  to  him. 

"He  will  be  an  invalid  for  at  least  a  year.  Dr.  Trevor 
says.  One  side  is  paralyzed — just  the  kind  of  case  for  you. 
Here  is  his  record." 

That  night  Madeline  prayed  for  her  wounded  soldier 
as  she  had  never  prayed  before.  Never  had  he  seemed  so 
near  to  her,  never  so  far  away.  So  much  had  happened 
since  they  last  had  met — so  much  to  them  both.  There 
had  never  in  the  old  days  been  any  real  understanding  of 
each  other — n  .rely  the  physical  attraction  l)etween  a  young 
man  and  a  maid.     She  had  not  fathomed  the  depUis  of 


DRUMS  AFAR 


347 


his  soul  any  more  than  he  had  fathomed  hers — what  soul 
at  all  indeed  did  she  have  in  these  days  except  the  soul  of 
ambition  and  careless  pleasure?  When  England's  danger 
had  called  him  so  rudely  away,  he  still  carried  with  him  the 
glamour  of  her  presence,  but  had  that  glamour  survived 
the  terrible  stress  of  these  days  of  danger?  And,  evon  if 
it  had,  now  that  he  had  lost  an  arm  and  was  half  paralyzed, 
would  he  shrink  from  her  from  dread  of  becoming  a  burden. 
He  was  just  the  man  to  do  that  kind  of  thing — had  he  not 
sacrificed  himself  once  already?  She  was  young  yet — he 
might  say  that  he  had  no  right  to  marry  her  and  tie  herself 
to  a  cripple. 

Ah,  but  he  did  not  know  what  science  could  do  now — 
she  had  herself  saved  far  worse  cases  from  a  living  death. 
The  arm,  of  course,  could  never  be  replaced,  but  the  nerves, 
and  the  vigour  of  dead  muscles  and  the  joy  of  life,  these 
she  could  resurrect — it  was  only  a  matter  of  time  and  care. 
Then  he  was  surely  hers — she  would  have  a  claim  on  him 
that  no  one  else  could  make.  This  more  than  any  charm  of 
face  or  hair  or  voice  or  figure  would,  as  he  once  said, 
"bridge  the  Atlantic  and  three  hundred  years." 

So  with  more  comfort  m  her  neart  and  whispering  to 
heaven  her  prayer  that  his  old  love  should  not  be  entirely 
lost,  she  sobbed  herself  to  sleep. 

Next  afternoon  Ward  C  was  all  a-flutter.  This  was  the 
Ward's  day  for  a  concert,  and,  to  the  sick,  music  is  surely 
the  tenderest  of  healers.  Some  kind  friend  had  sent  a  cart- 
load of  flowers,  and  the  air  was  sweet  with  the  colour  and 
fragrance  of  orchids  and  snapdragons,  sweetpeas,  honey- 
suckle and  roses.  What  the  programme  was,  no  one  exactly 
knew.  These  were  days  when  famous  pianists  and  violinists 
and  singers  from  Grand  Opera  performed  without  pay  and 
without  advertisement — happy  to  bring  a  moment  or  two  of 
joy  to  broken  soldiers. 

Towards  the  hour  appointed  extra  pillows  were  brought 
in,  and  heads  propped  up  so  that  the  patients  could  be 
encouraged  to  look  around  them  and  be  more  sociable — 
easy  step  to  feeling  better.  For  each  to-day  there  was  a 
siKcia?  nosegay. 


348 


DRUMS  AFAR 


"Who  sent  them?"  was  the  question  asked  again  and 
again  by  the  older  patients. 

"No  one  knows  but  the  Head  Sister,"  was  the  answer. 

The  Head  Sister  was  busy  with  the  new  arrivals  who 
may  have  thought  that  nosegays  were  part  of  the  regular 
hospital  equipment.  When  at  last  she  left  them  and  came 
into  the  firing-zone  of  the  more  sophisticated. 

"It's  not  for  me  to  tell,"  she  answered.  "Better  ask  the 
Singing  Sister." 

"The  Singing  Sister?  Is  she  to  be  here  this  afternoon? 
Hip-hip-hooray!"  cried  a  youngster  who  was  a  captain  at 
nineteen  and  a  cripple  at  twenty. 

"Who  is  the  Singing  Sister?"  asked  Charles  of  his  father, 
who  was  sitting  by  his  bedside. 

Mr.  Fitzmorris  had  been  let  into  the  secret  and  had  prom- 
ised not  to  tell  Charles  of  her  presence  or  identity. 

"Wait  till  you  have  heard  her,"  was  therefore  the  evasive 
answer,  "then  you  will  never  forget." 

Forget?  There  was  another  singer  whom  he  could 
never  forget.  He  could  still  hear  the  lingering  echoes  of 
the  first  song  he  had  heard  her  sing,  one  night  at  Strasburg 
— it  must  be  five  years  ago.  Then  again  in  London  at  her 
concert — ^how  could  he  forget  that  lovely  figure  with  the 
note  of  jet-black  hair,  and  the  deep  warm  notes  of  her 
voice.  At  Henley  again — Marianne  s'en  va-t-au-moulin 
and  those  other  beautiful  old  French-Canadian  songs — 
could  they  ever  fade  from  his  memory?  In  memory  her 
voice  blended  with  his — they  were  singing  together — would 
it  had  been  together  always: — and  then,  on  the  St.  Louis 
she  had  sung  herself  into  his  heart. 

Ah,  but  the  clouds  came,  and  the  rumble  of  war  and  the 
bugle  call  of  duty,  so  that  her  softer  sweeter  music  was 
no  longer  dominant.  He  had  answered  the  rSveilli  and  her 
voice  had  followed  him  in  passionate  reproach.  Who  tould 
blame  her  ?  She  was  bom  of  another  race  and  another  world. 

But  still  as  he  lay  there  half  dreaming,  he  could  see  her — 
a  graceful  figure  exquisitely  poised,  with  wealth  of  jet- 
black  hair  and  eyes  of  jet-black  lustre,  and  voice  deep  and 
warm  and  full,  that  sang  and  that  sang  and  that  sang — — 


DRUMS  AFAR 


349 


Was  it  a  dream?  If  so,  how  vivid!  His  nerves  must 
still  be  highstrung.  He  must  be  careful  not  to  let  imagina- 
tion run  riot — ^that  way  was  madness. 

That  was  her  favourite  song — the  negro  lullaby  of 
Eugene  Field. 

"Now  you  go  balow,  my  little  croodlin'  doo 

Now  you  go  rock-a-bye  ever  so  far — 

Rock-a-bye,  rock-a-bye  up  to  the  star 

That's  wingin'  and  blinkin'  an'  singin'  to  you 

As  you  go  balow,  my  wee,  croodlin'  doo." 

Why,  these  fellows  in  the  other  cots  were  clapping!  It 
couldn't  be  only  a  dream — they  were  not  dreaming  the 
same  dreams — it  was  real,  and  the  singer — over  there — 
dressed  as  a  V.A.D.  in  the  blue  and  white  striped  uniform 
with  the  white  apron  and  the  jet-black  hair  and  jet-black 
eyes — Madeline ! 

He  tried  to  lift  his  hand,  but  the  effort  was  too  much  and 
he  sank  back  helpless. 

She  began  another  song — this  time  it  was  "Annie  Laurie" 
— how  still  the  room  was  I  That  fellow  over  there  must  be 
Scotch.  Of  course  he  was  that  Gordon  Highlander,  the 
ranker  who  had  won  his  commission  and  the  V.C.  at  the 
same  time — the  tears  were  running  down  his  cheek.  God ! 
how  beautiful  her  voice  was — down  it  went  to  the  depths  of 
his  heart — down  and  down  and  down. 

"Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet, 
And  she's  all  the  world  to  me 
And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 
I'd  lay  me  doon  and  dee." 

His  father  had  been  sitting  with  his  face  turned  the  other 
way  towards  the  singer.  Charles  managed  at  last  to  twitch 
his  coat  so  that  he  turned  round.  It  was  just  as  on  that 
night  when  they  went  to  see  The  Blue  Bird  together— Mr. 
Fitzmorris  was  overcome  with  emotion. 

"Isn't  she  wonderful  ?"  he  said  at  last,  sniffing  as  he  wiped 
his  eyes.    "She  seems  to  tear  the  heart  up  by  the  roots." 


r 


350 


DRUMS  AFAR 


1     :l 
t 


"Father,"  said  Charles,  "is  that  the  Singing  Sister?— and 
is  she  Madeline?" 

His  father  nodded. 

It  was  she  who  had  sent  the  flowers — to  all  the  ward. 
Then  perhaps  she  did  not  know  he  was  here — it  was  to  all 
the  ward.  He  was  one  of  so  many  wounded  soldiers — 
ought  he  to  send  a  message  ? 

A  twinge  of  pain  reminded  him  that  he  was  crippled ! 

Then  some  one  else  came  forward — it  was  a  violinist — 
there  had  been  a  violinist  at  Madeline's  great  concert. 

And  she?  She  came  again  forward  to  sing — she  was  so 
graceful  and  so  beautiful. 

This  time  it  was  that  American  song, 

"The  sweetest  flower  that  blows 
I  give  you  as  we  part; 
For  you  it  is  a  rose, 
For  me  it  is  my  heart." 

His  nosegay  was  all  of  roses. 

How  often  she  had  sung  that  to  him  in  the  days  at  Lake 
Geneva.    Would  he  ever  live  through  such  days  again  ? 

A  sigh  went  round  the  room  when  she  had  finished,  and 
then  a  storm  of  clapping.  Then  the  V.C.  across  the  room 
from  Charles  called  out  in  broad  Aberdeen 

"Sister,  gi'e  us  anither  Scotch." 

"I've  just  one  more  song,"  she  answered  laughing,  "and 
it  is  Scotch — Will  ye  no  come  back  againf" 

"Fine,  it'll  dae  fine." 

She  sang  it,  but  just  three  verses,  leaving  out  the  impli- 
cation on  the  English  and  again  the  tears  coursed  down  the 
cheek  of  the  Gay  Gordon. 

To  Charles  the  first  verse  had  another  message : 

"Bonnie  Charlie's  noo  awa' 
Safely  o'er  the  friendly  main ; 
Mony  a  hairt  will  brak  in  twa 
Should  he  no  come  back  again. 
Will  ye  no  come  back  again  ? 


DRUMS  AFAR 

Better  lo'ed  ye  canna  be. 
Will  ye  no  come  back  again  ?" 


351 


She  knew  he  was  there — she  was  singing  this  to  him — 
he  felt  it  though  she  did  not  look  at  him— it  could  not  be 
for  any  one  else  but  him,  and  his  heart  grew  light — she 
loved  him  still — ^this  was  her  way  of  telling  him— she  loved 
him — "IVill  ye  no  come  back  again?" 

He  fell  into  a  kind  of  dream.  Then  his  father's  voice 
awakened  him. 

"Well,"  Mr.  Fitzmorris  was  saying,  "was  I  right?  Can 
you  ever  forget  her?" 

Qiarles  saw  that  the  eyes  were  laughing  now. 

"How  much  do  you  know  ?"  he  said. 

"I  know  this,"  his  father  answered,  "we  are  going  to 
move  you  in  a  few  minutes  into  a  private  ward,  and  you 
are  to  have  a  nurse  all  to  yourself." 

"Who  is  she?"  he  asked,  with  a  sudden  great  hope. 

"Who  else  but  the  Singing  Sister?" 

"Thank  God  for  that !"  he  exclaimed  vith  a  happy  smile. 
"Thank  God  I" 

Just  then  Dr.  Trevor  came  and  examined  his  chart. 

"Well,  Captain  Fitzmorris,"  he  said  cheerfully,  "we're 
going  to  put  you  on  your  feet  again.  It'll  take  some  time, 
but  with  careful  treatment  and  good  nursing— yes"  (this 
to  the  Head  Sister)  "he  may  as  well  be  moved  at  once,  the 
room  is  ready.  Mr.  Fitzmorris,  you  may  see  the  patient 
again  to-morrow  afternoon." 

Madeline  was  there  waiting,  but  gave  no  sign  of  recog- 
nition as  he  was  carried  in. 

After  a  sharp  glance  round  the  room  to  see  that  every- 
thing was  in  order,  Dr.  Trevor  gave  her  brief  instructions 
about  the  case  and  left  to  resume  his  rounds. 

At  last  they  were  alone. 

"Madeline!"  said  Charles  all  huskily,  holding  out  the 
hand  that  remained. 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  her  reserve  broke  down.  She 
fell  on  her  knees  beside  him,  her  salt  tears  raining,  and 
kissed  the  hand  again  and  again. 


352 


DRUMS  AFAR 


i 


"Charles,"  she  sobbed,  "can  you  forgive  me?" 

"Forgive?"  he  said.  "What  is  there  to  forgive?  It  is 
you  that  must  forgive." 

"No — I  tried  to  keep  you  from  your  duty." 

"That's  all  ancient  history  now,"  he  said.  "And  even 
if  there  was  a  mistake,  aren't  you  in  uniform  now  ?  Haven't 
you  made  good?" 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  her  face  suddenly  clearing,  "do  you 
look  at  it  like  that  ?    Do  you  really  mean  it  ?" 

"What  else  can  it  mean  ?"  he  said.  "I  only  wish  I  weren't 
such  a  crock.  Just  one  arm  now,  old  girl — only  half  my 
nerves — the  rest  are  'somewhere  in  France.'" 

"Poor  boy,"  she  said  tenderly.  Then  more  cheerfully, 
"It's  up  to  me  to  bring  you  back  the  other  half.  I  think 
there  must  be  some  fate  in  this.  Here  have  I  been  training 
all  this  year  for  just  such  a  case  as  yours " 

"Don't  be  so  professional,"  interrupted  Charles  with  a 
smile.  "Here  have  I  been  training  all  these  years  for  just 
such  a  heart  as  yours — that  is  to  say,  if  you  will  still  have 
what  is  left  of  me." 

"Will  I!"  she  leaned  over  and  kissed  his  eyes  ever  so 
softly  for  answer. 

Pen  minutes,  or  it  may  have  been  an  hour  later.  Dr. 
Trevor  came  in  unnoticed  and  found  her  seated  on  the 
bedside,  Charles's  hand  in  hers. 

"Miss  Raymond!"  he  exclaimed  severely.  "That  is  not 
the  correct  way  to  feel  a  pulse." 

Madeline  jumped  up,  blushing  furiously  and  hung  her 
head. 

"All  right,  doctor,"  sang  out  Charles,  and  the  doctor's 
professional  ear  was  quick  to  catch  the  stronger  note. 
"You  don't  understand.  You  are  English.  This  is  the 
American  way — over  there  they  call  it  'holding  hands.'  We 
are  old  friends,  don't  you  know — I  and  the  Singing  Sister 
for 

"  'Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet 
And  she's  all  the  world  to  me.' " 


The  End 


